Hermione Granger and the Twisted Fate Rewrite
by shadowphoenix55
Summary: Hermione was an orphan, until the Dursleys came and adopted her. After a few months of living with them and Harry, another adopted boy, a Hogwarts professor comes to take them away. But at Hogwarts, not all is what it seems, especially when you're sorted into Slytherin and your new brother is not... Slytherin!Hermione. REWRITE.
1. Prologue (or Chapter One)

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Prologue

Author's Note: This is a rewrite of Hermione Granger and the Twisted Fate. There's not many changes in the first two chapters, but from three onwards there will be. Enjoy!

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives …_

 _The one with the power to help the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord will mark the one as his equal, but the one will have the power that the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of another for neither can live while the other survives…"_

"Very good, Severusss." A man with dark, black eyes hissed at a younger man with black hair, "You have done well."

Severus bowed and moved into the black-robed mass of people behind him.

"I will get the Potter boy." The man who hissed announced gleefully, his eyes turning red, "Bella, go to the Longbottoms and take the Longbottom boy. Kill if you must."

A woman with black hair bowed, cackling in delight.

"He will be turned." The man said "I will not have it otherwise."

"Yes, my Lord." The group chorused.

The "Lord" turned on the spot, disappearing. In the space where he once sat, a voice could still be heard.

"Harry Potter..."

* * *

A small child of the age of about one tottered down the dark street. The child was heading towards an empty lot, which seemed a bit out of place. Beside the empty lot was a graveyard that seemed to be a pit of darkness. The child whimpered a bit as it saw the graveyard, and started backing into the empty lot. The child ran into an invisible barrier, of sorts. It whimpered again and jumped. All of the sudden, a house appeared in the stop of the once-empty lot, it's bright lights contrasting with the darkness of the graveyard. The child's hand caught ahold of the open window, and it somehow pulled itself inside.

Shouts were heard from the graveyard.

"Where's-?"

"I thought- AAHHH!"

"Stand aside!"

"No! Get away from-"

A ruffle of sound could be heard-

"STOP! I'M ARMED!"

A snort came from the darkness, followed by cackling.

"I'm telling you, move away-"

"Avada Kedavra!"

There was a scream, and the graveyard was lit up by a green flash. A dark figure stood by a gravestone, the origin of the light. The figure was holding a small stick of sorts - then graveyard was once more dark.

"JA-"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The graveyard was lit up in green again. The dark figure was opening the door to the house. Shouts came from inside as darkness resumed-

"He's here!"

"Take Harry!"

A green flash lit the area, this time in the house. There was two screams and two wails at once.

"No! Not Harry, please! Not Harry!"

"Stand aside, girl!"

"Not Harry-"

Another green flash lit up the sky.

"Now, for the child… Ava-"

There was a green flash, and a scream.

A child tumbled out of the window.


	2. To Be Careful What You Wish For

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Chapter 1 - Be Careful What You Wish For

 **A/N: Read and Review!**

Hermione was an orphan. Apparently, she'd been found on the orphanage doorstep when she was young, about one year of age. The doctors had said her birthday was sometime at the end of September.

The orphans were ranked for intelligence, Hermione first by a long shot, so she got her own room. She was naturally smart, having a photographic memory, but she still worked harder than anyone else, striving for the best. She had skipped six grades in school, and this she was entering 12th grade instead of 6th.

Math was her favorite subject, science following it. She loved figuring out problems using math. She was already at college level on both subjects, having had spent most of her time on them.

The rest of the orphans had a disliking of Hermione, to put it mildly. They were jealous of her abilities, and made her look bad in front of any potential adoptive parents. Which made their custodians _very_ mad, but not at Hermione.

So, when the bell dinged downstairs, signaling that there was a new client, in the middle of the summer before 12th grade, Hermione prepared herself for the worst. She quickly moved to put all of her books away, not wanting them to get damaged.

Lindsay Greenstein, a twelve year old 7th grader who had somehow gotten into Hermione's room, was quicker, grabbing Hermione's math book before Hermione put it away. Hermione was horrified. That was her favorite book!

"Not going to be the best now!" Lindsay taunted, dangling the book over Hermione's head, "Not ever going to get out of this place, no you won't, not if I can stop it."

"Please." Hermione begged, feeling helpless, "Not that book, not- no!"

Lindsey had torn off a page.

"Please, please..."

There went another page.

Hermione looked at Lindsay, and for the first time, anger bubbled up inside of her. Lindsay tore another page.

"NO!" Hermione shouted, and her hand grabbed the older girl's arm.

There was a sickening _crack_ and Lindsay dropped the book. Hermione immediately let go, grabbing the book, holding it protectively and glaring at Lindsay. The girl had taken to moaning while looking at her hand, which was bent completely the wrong way.

Hermione was shocked at herself. Had she done that?

 _She deserved it. They all do._

Hermione gasped. Did she really think that? Of course they didn't deserve - whatever she did - probably broken - did they?

And the other question, how in the world did she _do_ that? It shouldn't be possible - she hadn't even pulled down, she'd pulled forward. If she was actually that strong, she would have dislocated Lindsay's hand, or even arm, not broken her wrist.

"Go away." Hermione's voice was cold. _Where did that come from?_

Lindsay gave Hermione one last glare and stalked off. Hermione glanced down at her book.

The strange thing was, it wasn't damaged in the slightest.

* * *

Harry was worried. Aunt Petunia had died at the grocery store about a month ago, and he'd been shouldering what he thought was all of the extra work ever since. But, now that Uncle Vernon was going to adopt a girl, Harry thought that taking the extra burden wouldn't be that bad compared to another person in the family who might be like Dudley. Harry had told Vernon this yesterday. Well, not the part about Dudley.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry said, "I can do what Aunt Petunia did-".

Harry was shot down in a second. "Listen, boy," Vernon said, "You don't know how to cook, you can't do our bills, you can't even fold laundry properly! And I need someone responsible to watch over you. Someone that can't run away screaming, boy. Now get out!"

So Harry was going to be dragged all the way to an orphanage the next day with Uncle Vernon because he didn't want Harry staying with the babysitter for Dudley at the house.

* * *

Hermione was in her room, reading the same math book that Lindsay had grabbed yesterday. She had gotten in big trouble, having scared the potential clients away when she had went to tell on Hermione. Lindsay wasn't believed when she complained, and she had gotten a horrid punishment: being moved down a rank for 'Incompetence and lies'. Lindsay was now ranked 51 out of the 100 girls, one less than average. Hermione almost felt sorry for the girl. Almost.

Hermione had finally decided something was up. She'd broken Lindsay's wrist and her book had fixed itself. Some part of her mind thought it was some elaborate trick, though, and she hadn't read anything that about something like this happening. Granted, she didn't have access to the internet, but still.

The bell rang, signaling breakfast. Hermione jumped, her eyes flicking about the room to see if anyone was there to mess with her. No one was there. Perhaps they had heard of Lindsay's consequence. Maybe they will stop now, Hermione thought hopefully. She put her book on her shelf and walked out of her room, making sure to lock it behind her. There was no point of losing her guard after all that had happened.

Apparently, the word had spread. As Hermione walked into the cafeteria, everyone suddenly was silent. Hermione decided to take advantage of the situation, and held her chin up, walking over to the trays with purpose. She took one, and looked around. Everyone was staring at her.

"What are you staring at?" Hermione snapped. As soon as the words left her mouth, the loud chatter began, a bit nervously. Hermione smirked at walked over to the food. She had done it! The lunch lady, a kind old woman with grey hair and blue eyes, handed her eggs and milk.

"Thank you." Hermione kindly said to the lunch lady, who handed her the food on her tray. The lunch lady smiled.

"Don't let them get to you, dear." She said.

Hermione smiled back and sat down at the nearest table. The two girls there took one look at Hermione and scrambled. Hermione shook her head and took a bite of the eggs. _Let them believe what they want._ She raised an eyebrow in their direction. Inside, she was doing cartwheels. This was the first time that her food hasn't been stolen at breakfast. Usually, her breakfast and dinner was stolen.

No one came near her for the rest of the meal, so it was a happy Hermione who skipped back to her room. _Maybe life wouldn't be so bad, anymore,_ she thought, _if this went on_. Maybe she would get adopted parents, she wished.

* * *

Looking back on it, Hermione remembered the phrase, 'Be careful what you wish for'. She hadn't been so careful.

The next day was Wednesday. The bell dinged downstairs, signaling another potential client. Hermione double checked that her area was immaculate and found that it was, as usual. She quickly put her book away, just in case.

A few minutes later, Hermione could hear voices in the door.

"This is where the smartest lives?" A deep voice said.

"Yes" Hermione recognized Ms. Greene, the Head of the orphanage, reply.

The door opened and Hermione stood up, ready to greet the new client. She stared at the pudgy, fat man with a short neck and beady eyes for a moment before greeting him.

"Hello, sir. My name is Hermione." Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful.

The man stared at her.

"What is your age and grade?" He asked, rather rudely in Hermione's opinion.

"I'm eleven in August, sir. I'm in twelfth grade." Hermione replied, hoping the man had a kind side.

"Can you do finances and bills, cook, do laundry, shop for groceries, and look over _ehm_ a bit of a troublemaking boy?" He said, coughing in the middle. It was then when Hermione noticed the skinny boy behind the man. He was skinny, had knobby knees, messy black hair, and startling green eyes. The boy didn't look like a troublemaker. In fact, he looked afraid. He didn't look like the man at all. An adopted boy, perhaps?

That's when Hermione noticed his aura. It was a bit dimmer than hers, but it was still there. She got a little excited - no one else had an aura that she knew of - but there was time for more thought about that later.

"Yes, sir." Hermione replied, hiding a wince as she not so fondly remembered the times she had watched over the little ones, who were quite rambunctious.

"Alright." The man said after a moment, "You do those things, and you can have room and board. We'll go over details later. I'm going to go sign the contract for you. Pack up your stuff. And stay here until I get back, boy." The last part was addressed to the black haired boy. Hermione wondered for a moment if the boy wasn't treated so well- all of the signs were pointing to yes. Hermione shoved her growing anger down. _Not now._ The man and Ms. Green left the room.

"Hi." The boy said shyly, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Hello." Hermione replied cheerfully as she pulled out her trunk from underneath her bed, which held Hermione's only possessions, books and clothes.

"What've you got in there?" Harry asked excitedly, peering at the trunk over Hermione's shoulder.

"Books and clothes." Hermione replied proudly, "It's all I have. Usually, orphans don't get books of our own - but I get them because I am - well, I was, I suppose, - first rank."

"What's that mean?" Harry asked, a bit disappointedly. Hermione supposed it was because she didn't have any toys. Boys with their toys - jeez.

"First rank?" Hermione asked, a bit impatient, and at Harry's nod, she continued, "We're ranked for intelligence here - I'm first."

"Oh." Harry replied.

Hermione pulled her trunk up, carrying it like she would a book, between her chest and her arm. Harry's jaw dropped.

"What?" Hermione asked, shifting the trunk. It wasn't that heavy, only about one hundred pounds. It was a bit bulky, though. Perhaps it looked weird to carry a trunk like she was… well, she didn't have any other way, such as wheels.

"Er-" Harry stammered, "Um… do you carry trunks all of the time?"

Hermione looked down at the trunk again. So he couldn't carry one.

"No." Hermione said, "But I carry about the same weight in books every day."

"Oh." Was all he replied. Hermione noted he said _oh_ quite a lot. _It is quite annoying._ Maybe he was just nervous.

"Is he always like that?" Hermione asked, jerking her head towards the door, most of her hope that the man was kind had vanished.

"Yes." Harry said angrily, "They all are - Dudley and him - he's Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia was too. Whatever you do, don't ask questions."

Hermione processed this information. Was - she must have died.

"So you're not his son?" Hermione thought out loud, "I supposed so.".

"No," Harry whispered sadly, "They are my relatives."

Hermione got that he wasn't giving her all of the information, but figured she would try again later. She was about to open her mouth to say something when footsteps sounded in the hallway. Hermione thrust open the door and Harry stepped out. She took one last glance at her old room. It didn't look the same anymore, even though she had only taken her trunk out.

"Goodbye." She whispered, and shut the door behind her.

Hermione jogged after her new "family". She caught up to them as they were walking out of the orphanage.

"Alright, girl." Vernon said, "Here's the deal. You look after my son and the boy, do finances and bills, cook, do laundry, shop for groceries, you get room and board.".

"What about college next year, sir?" Hermione asked cautiously, aware that things could go downhill fast. Colleges were _expensive_ these days.

Vernon looked down at her. "If you earn it, I know a private tutor that I can ask a favor for."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. A private tutor! For her!

"May I have some spending money for books?" Hermione asked with false sweetness, "You know - to be smarter and better at finances."

The pudgy man thought for a moment.

"Use the money you earn for that," Vernon said as if it was a feat to think, "you can mow the neighbor's lawns, babysit, and such. The tutor can come from 7-3 for 3 days a week. I'll be gone then, and so will Dudley and the boy. School ends at 3:30, but there's a walk to get back here. You can work on the other two days of the work week ."

Hermione nodded, knowing not to push any farther.

"Thank you, sir." Hermione said, not thankful towards the man at all.

* * *

Vernon drove in silence. Harry was looking out the window into the sky, Vernon was driving , and Hermione was trying to get a glimpse of her new home. The car pulled up to number 4, Privet Drive.

The house was plain, as the rest of the houses on the street. The street looked perfect in a horribly boring way. Hermione's heart sunk even further.

Vernon parked the car and Hermione hopped out and got her trunk out of the back. They approached the house. Hermione stopped when she saw the blood red… barrier, of sorts, around the home. It was very faint, but it was there. Vernon passed through it like it wasn't there. She decided to investigate as soon as possible. Harry went through next, the barrier flashing dark red as he passed through. Hermione frowned, but stepped forward with her trunk. The barrier flashed even darker red around her than it had to Harry.

Hermione noticed that Vernon had already opened the door, so she hurried inside, quickly following Harry. The living room was plain like the outside of the house, a brown couch, a circular rug, and a small table with a TV on top of it the only decoration. Sitting on the couch was a fat boy with blond hair. The fat boy was staring at the TV, completely immersed. Hermione deduced that this was Dudley, the son of Vernon, that Harry had warned her about. She slipped on her false sweet smile.

"Hey, Dudders." Vernon said, moving over to Dudley and clapping him on the back. _What a name,_ Hermione thought. She stood there, conscious of Harry, who was behind her, seemingly hiding himself from their view.

"Hey, Dad." Dudley tore his eyes from the screen for a moment, looking over at her.

"Hello." Hermione said, seeming like it was a good time to do so, "I'm Hermione. I'll be your sister." She bit that last part out as sweetly as she could, ignoring the bitter taste it left in her mouth.

"Ok." Dudley said, turning back to the TV. Vernon turned back to her.

"Alright. Your room is upstairs. By the master bedroom. 1st door on the left.".

Hermione nodded and moved up the stairs. Harry followed her after some barked instructions from Vernon. Upstairs had one hallway. On the right, there were three doors, and on the left, there were two. One led to the master bedroom. Hermione opened the door to her new room to find…

A large closet? It was about a nine foot by six foot space. There were a few built-in shelves sticking out of the walls with rungs for clothes underneath them. All of the clothes were gone, however. Shoved against the far wall was a small mattress. . Now she had more than an inkling on how life would be like here. _And it wasn't looking so great_ , she thought with a sneer.

Hermione set her trunk down underneath one of the shelves and examined the room. Her books could go on the shelves, her clothes on the rack by her bed…

Hermione spotted Harry, who was standing by the door, looking a bit awestruck. Hermione suddenly had a bad feeling.

"Where do you sleep?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer.

"Er- in the cupboard." Harry replied, "The cupboard under the stairs."

Hermione was silent for a moment, and then turned back to her room, which now seemed like a manor compared to what Harry slept in. _How could they!_ She glared at the wall, wishing she could do something to those foul, ugly, good-for-nothing-. She shook her head and got ahold of herself, turning back to Harry.

"Come in here tonight." She said, "If you've got a mattress, bring it. You can sleep here."

Harry instantly brightened, and Hermione smiled at him, feeling pride at how kind she was being to the poor boy.

"Ok." Harry said, "Tonight."

* * *

Hermione stared up at the ceiling of her room, listening to the snores of Vernon. She had cooked dinner for them (Harry got a handful, and Hermione got two - she was practically fuming by then-) and flipped the laundry, but hadn't started on her other chores, which would come tomorrow. She lay there, waiting. Harry would come tonight. She had gotten a peek at his cupboard, and that only solidified her thoughts of getting him into her room tonight - at least there were no _spiders_ in her room.

The door creaked open, and Hermione raised her head to see Harry coming in with his matress, which was even smaller than hers. Hermione took it from him and set it down next to hers, noticing he didn't have a blanket.

Harry shut the door and layed down on the mattress. Hermione tossed him one end of her blanket and he caught it, snuggling down with an aloof smile on his face. Hermione had thought he had went to sleep when he whispered;

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Hermione whispered back. There was a silence before:

"My parents," he whispered sadly, "died in a c-car crash. That's why I'm here. They're the only relatives I have left."

"I'm sorry." Hermione replied, remembering how she felt when she thought about her own parents. She then made a decision. Harry had shared his story with her, she should share hers with him.

"They never found out what happened to my parents." Hermione said quietly, "They just found me on the doorstep. That's why I don't know my last name."

Harry replied after a few moments of silence. "I suppose I can call you sister now."

Hermione took the figurative handshake. Harry didn't seem so annoying anymore. "I suppose I can call you brother."

Then they were silent once more, Morpheus taking them to his realm.

When Hermione awoke, the only difference was that she noticed that Harry had scooted a little closer in the night.


	3. I'm a Freak Too

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Chapter 2 - I'm a Freak Too

A/N: This chapter is a little different, especially at the end. The next few chapters will and up being more and more different from my original version of this.

Onto the story!

 _Darkness - suffocating blackness… The big shiny thing in the sky - where was it? Where were the other, smaller shines? Where was mama? Papa?_

" _Mama?" She whispered, frightened, as a gust of wind pushed her backwards, "Papa?"._

 _Stones… darkness… wind… light! There was light!_

 _Light and darkness, swirling around her like they were to fighters in a battle Papa always watched on the big, black screen… wait… Papa!_

 _There was a blinding flash, and then she was falling down, down into the darkness, never to go back to the shimmering light…_

Hermione awoke with a gasp. She looked around quickly, and then slumped when she saw that she was still in the closet with Harry.

She had had dreams like this one for as long as she could remember - she supposed it was of right before her parents'... before she was found by the orphanage.

Settling back down, Hermione turned over to see Harry shifting restlessly. He was tossing and turning, his part of the blanket thrown off to her mattress. Hermione quietly got up so she wouldn't wake him when Harry let out a whimper. Hermione froze, recognizing the signs of a bad dream. She stretched her hand out to wake him. She would rather be awoken by someone else than have to go through her nightmares, so Harry probably did as well. She tapped him on the shoulder a bit hesitant, but Harry didn't awake.

"Harry!" Hermione urgently whispered as he whimpered again. She shook him harder this time, and he jerked up into a sitting position, breathing heavily. He grappled for something on the shelf besides him, grabbing his glasses and jamming them on.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, sitting back on her mattress. Harry nodded slowly. Hermione frowned. He was lying, she could tell. She watched him stare up at the ceiling, his breathing slowly steading. After a few minutes, he turned back to her.

"Thanks for waking me." He said shortly, and laid back down. Hermione laid down as well. The stared into each other's eyes for awhile. In Harry's eyes, Hermione saw fear, confusion, and hesitation. She slowly brought her hand over to his mattress and laid it on top of his, hoping to comfort him. Harry took her hand and squeezed it. He looked into her eyes for one last moment before he closed his. Hermione watched as he fell back asleep, his breathing back to normal.

Hermione closed her eyes as well, knowing that she had succeeded in making Harry feel comforted. The strange thing was, with Harry still holding onto her hand, she was too.

* * *

When Hermione awoke again, Harry was still holding onto her hand. He awoke a few seconds after she did, quickly pulling his hand away with a blush on his cheeks. After a moment of awkward silence, Harry went back downstairs to change, taking his mattress with him. The two met up in the kitchen.

"What do they typically like to eat on Sundays?" Hermione asked Harry, who was quietly setting up the table. He was reaching up to get the cups from the highest shelf.

"Bacon, milk, and usually a pastry - they go out to get the pastry, though." Harry replied, putting down a napkin. Hermione was suddenly struck by an idea on how to get on the Dursley's good side. She quickly checked the time - it was 5 - and started.

During her cooking, Harry finished setting the table, washed the windows, and went out to tend to the garden. He was drawn back in at around seven, however, at the smell of doughnuts. When he entered the kitchen, he saw that Hermione was frosting homemade doughnuts! Hermione could tell that his mouth was watering at the sight, so she slipped one into his hand and mouthed;

'Eat it in the cupboard.'

Harry gave her a giant grin and went off to his cupboard. Hermione looked around, quickly shoving a doughnut into her mouth. She didn't know what was going to be leftover for her and Harry after Vernon and Dudley came through, after all. A few minutes later, Hermione had finished the doughnuts and some bacon, Harry had come back out from the cupboard, and Dudley and Vernon were coming downstairs. You could tell by the loud footsteps, one slower and the other faster, making a pitter-patter sound. The two came into the kitchen, _sniffing_ at the food.

"Good morning!" Hermione said, fixing her smile, "I made homemade doughnuts and bacon - I hope you like it!".

Vernon and Dudley both stared at the doughnuts. Dudley got out of his superior first, grabbing a plate and putting three of the six doughnuts on it. As an afterthought, he took six pieces of bacon. Vernon grabbed the last of the doughnuts and four pieces of bacon, leaving Harry and Hermione with three pieces of bacon each. Harry sat on the stool farthest from the Dursleys, leaving Hermione to have to sit between Dudley and him. Hermione gave Harry a short glare before sitting down and eating. The two Dursleys ate like pigs, frosting around their mouths and - in Dudley's hair? - leaving Hermione feeling disgusted. She kept her head down, though, eating her bacon in silence, like Harry did.

"I'm gonna go to the park with the gang." Dudley said, his mouth full, to his father. Vernon nodded, standing up and leaving, his plate licked clean. As Dudley left as well, Harry, finished with his bacon, went to clear the dishes. Hermione helped him, and together they cleaned up the kitchen in only a few minutes.

The day passed with Harry and Hermione doing chores, Dudley out to play, and Vernon watching TV. Hermione found a pile of laundry and a stack of bills awaiting her, so she got to work, mentally cursing the Dursleys. She first addressed the laundry. As she watched the washing machine cycle, she thought about what she had done to Lindsay.

It was an undiscovered force. Well, either that, or a hidden one. Somehow, she had, on her will to do so, made Lindsay's wrist to break.

 _But how?_ Hermione thought back to the scene. She remembered wanting for Lindsay's wrist to break. _Wait…_ she was looking at Lindsay's wrist at the time, and she had seen it happen in her mind. So it was a matter of will, visualization, and… direction, to do it.

The sciences didn't make sense, which drove her crazy. She was a college level scientist, but this? The problem wasn't that the sciences were complex, but what she had done had defied the whole lot of them. The rules, the exceptions...Hermione didn't dare to think that they were all wrong. That she, in a fight over a book, had proved that humans were wrong for centuries. Nope. NOT HAPPENING.

A beeping noise jolted her out of her thoughts. _It's already done?_ Hermione looked at the clock on the wall to realize that she'd been standing there for forty five minutes. She sighed, thinking of the bills ahead of her, and put the wet clothes into the drier.

The rest day went without incident, Hermione cooking pizza for lunch and lasagna for dinner. Yet again, she and Harry only got small portions while Vernon and Dudley ate the rest. Her anger only grew stronger, but she coiled it in with ropes. Harry came back to her closet at night, mattress in hand and dirt from the garden still on his face and hands. Another rule the Dursleys had was that Harry and Hermione would only shower on Monday and Thursday mornings, too 'preserve water', so Vernon put it. That didn't stop them from taking showers, though. Hypocrites.

"School ends at three." Harry reminded her (though she didn't need reminding) as they laid down, "Uncle Vernon will be back at around five thirty. Dudley likes to go to the park with his _friends_ after school, so he'll probably be back at six.". Hermione noticed that he said _friends_ with fear and - a bit of jealousy? She filed the information away after contemplating it for awhile.

"Goodnight Harry." Hermione whispered, turning over.

"'Night, Hermione." Harry replied.

* * *

The next day started off with Hermione making sausages, pancakes, and eggs. She, yet again, gave some to Harry and ate some herself, hungry from yesterday's pitiful meals, before the Dursleys came down. When the Dursleys came down, they didn't notice or suspect a thing, which made Hermione mentally shake her head.

Harry and Dudley left for school at ten minutes to seven, Vernon leaving a few minutes after them. The doorbell rang at seven o'clock on the dot, and Hermione opened it to reveal a woman that looked to be in her mid forties. She had blue eyes and sandy blond hair that was pulled into a bun. The woman squinted her, looking her over, and then said;

"You're Hermione? I'm the private tutor. Amelia Baterberry."

Hermione nodded and stood aside to let Ms. Baterberry in, who was looking rather disbelievingly at her. Hermione saw this and stiffened a bit, feeling rather offended. So what if she was just an eleven year old? Hermione shoved these thoughts aside, however. Ms. Baterberry took her rather heavy coat off and hung it up in the closet before turning back to Hermione.

"Shall we adjourn to the office?" Hermione asked politely. Ms. Baterberry nodded, and they did so. The sat down on either side of the table. Ms. Baterberry handed Hermione a thick packet.

"Today I shall just asses the level you are at." She said, and Hermione started, almost choking as she saw _algebra_ on the first page. _SERIOUSLY?_

Hermione breezed through the packet, thankful that there were some college level problems on the last few pages. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ms. Baterberry's eyebrows were practically raising past her hairline, which made Hermione immensely smug.

The next packet was for science, and Hermione completed it in the same manner as the first. She worked through all of the packets, stopping for lunch at twelve (she quickly made sandwiches for both of them). Surprisingly, she did well on most of the vocabulary she didn't know, basing her answers on Latin, Greek, and other roots. She also completed the Spanish, Latin, Greek, French, German, and Mandarin folders with ease. Social studies, on the other hand, she only could go up to what she had learned in that class. Ms. Baterberry checked Hermione's previous packets as Hermione worked. At the end, Hermione drew a rather terrible owl for art and sung a few songs for music to which Ms. Baterberry covered her ears (there was a reason she'd never liked choir).

"You're college level in math, science, english, and foreign languages," Ms. Baterberry conceded at around two forty five as they packed up, surprising Hermione with the last two, "But you're at a higher level in math and science than the rest. For social studies, you're at 12th grade, but art and music..."

"I would prefer not to take those." Hermione cut in, and Ms. Baterberry nodded, relieved. She left a few minutes later, her impression of Hermione having improved significantly.

The day went on, Harry coming back from school around three, like he said. Dudley didn't make an appearance until Hermione went to shop for groceries.

She was going out of the house when she spotted Harry, who was still working in the garden, surrounded by five boys, the ringleader being Dudley. Three of the other boys were a little less giant than Dudley was, their stomachs sagging down. They held their fists up, taunting Harry with a few mock-punches. Every time they did so, Harry winced backwards, and they would laugh, grinning at each other. One skinny boy was holding Harry's arms back, a sick smile on his face. The tools Harry had been using were scattered around him. Oh, how Hermione wanted to wipe those smiles off their fat faces. Hermione's anger quickly ignited, for her frustration with the Dursleys was like oil, but she roped it in again with a thicker rope, throwing it to a corner of her mind.

That was when Dudley brought his fist up, ready to strike Harry.

It all happened at once. Dudley's fist was closing in, and the ropes around Hermione's anger began to break. It was only when Harry's face was inches away from being hurt when the ropes broke. Hermione flicked her hand, tunneling all of her anger at Dudley and his hand, practically seeing it breaking like what he deserved -

 _Crack._

Dudley began to scream, holding his hand like it was broken and toppeling backwards onto the grass. Hermione smiled in satisfaction as Dudley ran into the house, tears flooding out of his eyes. The other four boys backed away from Harry, who was looking very confused, and ran, whimpering all the way like little babies. After they ran out of sight, Hermione turned her attention back to Harry.

"It wasn't me." Harry said as Hermione looked at him, mistaking her satisfaction for fear, "It wasn't - "

"BOY!" Vernon came running outside and grabbed Harry by the ear, pulling him inside. Hermione, suddenly fearful, followed. She walked into the house to see Harry being shut in his cupboard.

"You'll be in there for two months!" Vernon shouted at the door, which he quickly looked, "Look what you did to poor Dudders - you broke his hand with your freakishness! We have to go to the hospital!"

Indeed, Dudley, who had gotten inside, was whimpering in the corner. He held out his hand to show that it was broken. The feeling of satisfaction arose in Hermione again at the sight of the oddly-bent hand, but this time it was coupled with fear. She had done it again.

"Wait." Hermione said as Vernon began to stomp away, "It wasn't him."

"WHO DID IT THEN?" Vernon roared, "THE AIR? THERE IS NO ONE ELSE!"

"Me." Hermione said, very meekly. Vernon's eyes widened.

"GET IN WITH HIM! NOW!"

Hermione gulped, before she was shoved into a small, cramped, dark cupboard, and heard the lock click.

* * *

It was dark, but Hermione could still see Harry's ever-so wide eyes that peered at her with astonishment.

"You-you-you" Harry stammered when they heard the door slam, signaling the Dursleys had gone outside, "You stood up for me?"

"Yes." Hermione said fiercely, "You didn't deserve that. No one does."

Harry was silent, before -

"I saw you."

Hermione froze.

"You flicked your hand at him right before his hand broke."

Hermione shortly nodded, sitting down on the mattress. Despite her outward calmness, inside, red lights were flashing everywhere in her mind, spelling out; _He knows_.

"You did it for me." Harry said, his voice full of wonder. Hermione looked at him, confused. Why wasn't he freaking out? She had just told him that she broke Dudley's hand while standing ten feet away.

"I can do it too." Harry continued at Hermione's confused look, "Whenever they cut my hair, it always seemed to grow back. One time, I somehow made these ugly clothes Aunt Petunia got for me shrink until it probably could fit a doll. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon called it freakishness – they said that my mother and father were freaks. And I'm a freak too."


	4. Of Experimenting and an Odd Tutoring

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers.**

Chapter 3 - Of Experimenting and an Odd Tutoring Session

 **Author's Note: Ok. I decided that 230 views on the first day meant I had to give you all a treat. Again, this chapter is a little different from the original fifth chapter, but not completely different. The next chapter will mostly be different from it's original. So here's the third chapter:**

It took Hermione a whole of ten minutes before she decided she was going to open the lock. Harry had then asked _how_ , and Hermione realized that she could use the magic-thing.

"It's like this." Hermione explained to Harry in the dark, "You have to have the will to do it first. You have to _want_ to. The next is you have to visualize it happening in your head. Then you've got to _direct_ your will and visualization to the thing you want to do it to."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"Scientific method." Came Hermione's reply.

"Ok." Harry said, "You try first, I guess."

Hermione stuck her hand out to the door. Channeling all her might together and _wanting_ to open the lock so badly she directed it toward the door before she realized what she'd forgotten.

Nothing happened.

"Uh..." Harry said.

"Wait, I know what I did wrong." Hermione replied.

Channeling all her might, Hermione this time did not forget to visualize. She practically thought the lock had opened by the time she channeled all of the energy -

 _Click._

* * *

Hermione raised a taco to her mouth, thinking about her and Harry's abilities. After getting out of the cupboard, Hermione double checked the Dursleys weren't there before interrogating Harry about his magic, as she decided to call it for now. Harry had described some of the other things that he had done, Hermione questioning him. Apparently, her theory was correct; to be able to do one of the abilities, you must; (1) will, (2) visualize, and (3) direct. Now, she was curious as to what they could do, and what the limitations were. She pushed the thought that she had might have just about _broken science_ to the very back of her mind. This magic probably had some rules. And Hermione had her heart set on finding them.

Hermione placed the taco back down on the plate.

First testing. 3… 2… 1…

Hermione closed her eyes, visualizing the taco floating up in the air. She focused on it, wishing for it to happen. She pushed that wish and her visualization towards the taco…

"Hermione!" Harry shouted. Hermione opened her eyes to see the taco floating in front of her. Harry, who was one her side eating, was practically bouncing up and down in excitement.

 _Come._ Hermione thought to the taco. The taco floated over to her slowly. She opened her mouth to take a bite and bit down, a grin on her face as she mentally moved the taco back to the plate. She brought it back again, and then had it zoom around the room, careful to not let the contents spill. Harry was giggling madly (and a bit annoyingly) at the sight, jumping up to try to catch it. Hermione had it dance tantalizingly right above Harry's reach, sometimes dipping back down to his height before zooming upwards again. Hermione eventually ate the last bite, Harry having already finished his.

"That was awesome!" Harry exclaimed, "How did you do it? Will you show me? Please?" At the last part, he made puppy eyes.

Hermione didn't answer. She rubbed her head, which was now throbbing. It was like a thousand voices shouting in her ear, their echos rebounding off her skull. The voices grew louder in a quick crescendo, and Hermione winced.

"I think," She weakly said to a worried Harry after a while, "We've got to build up our abilities. Like a muscle. If you try lifting a two hundred pound weight without lifting anything before, it won't work. It's kind of like that, I assume."

"Oh." Harry said, "But how did we do it before?"

"Accidents." Hermione whispered, before blacking out.

* * *

First, there was darkness. Silence. Nothingness. Then, she heard something.

"Hermione. Hermione. Hermione." It was like a chant, and it went on – ten times, twenty times, fifty times – until the voice has rose to a desperate shout.

"HERMIONE!"

Hermione's eyes fluttered open to see a face above her. As the fuzziness of sleep went away, she recognized the face as Harry. Hermione sit up to see that she was in the closet again, on her mattress.

"You're awake!" Harry exclaimed jubilantly. He was sitting down next to Hermione. Hermione sat up, rubbing her eyes. Hermione's head didn't feel bad any longer - the throbbing had gone away.

"How long have I been asleep?" Hermione asked, standing up. Harry thought for a moment, before answering;

"An hour or so, I think." He said, "I brought you up here about fifty minutes ago."

Hermione almost snorted at that: Harry was so scrawny he would probably have to drag her up her. Hermione squinted at Harry, who was a bit guiltily looking away. _He didn't._ He _dragged_ her up here –

"Well, then," Hermione announced, fighting to not hit Harry with a book (it was very tempting), "Would you like some dessert?"

Harry eagerly nodded and bounded out of the door, his footsteps pattering on the stairs as he went down. Hermione stood and looked over to one of her books.

 _Levitate._ She thought to it, remembering to do the three things and grinning madly as the book rose up. She set it back down again, feeling her head. It didn't throb anymore. Hermione grinned. She had started to build up her magical core.

 _What?_ Hermione thought. Where in the world had _that_ come from? _Magical core?_ She guessed that it king of made sense, if she was doing magic, as she called it.

"Hermione!" Harry's voice sounded from downstairs, "Come on!"

Hermione winced at the whining, but still moved downstairs, still thinking about her sudden thought. _Was_ what she was doing classified as 'magic'? Yes, she decided, it did. Magic was the power of influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces, so what she was doing did fit in.

"Chocolate, vanilla, or mint chocolate chip?" Hermione asked Harry as she opened the freezer and looked at their choices.

"Chocolate!" Harry shouted like a little kid. Hermione gave him a glare that went unnoticed, taking out the chocolate and the mint chocolate chip. She scooped them two scoops each, Harry having chocolate and Hermione having the mint chocolate chip. Once they were done, Hermione quickly cleaned up and put everything away, still a little on edge. What if the Dursleys came back in the middle of them eating? That would make it very hard for them to get back into the cupboard on time. You could say Hermione was paranoid, looking out the window every few seconds. Hermione preferred to think she was cautious.

"What now?" Harry asked, licking his lips. Hermione thought for awhile, but eventually decided to keep going. _In for a penny, in for a pound._ Also, this was a form of revenge on the Dursleys. Hermione grinned. Revenge was sweet.

"Do you have all of your homework done?" Hermione asked instead of saying what she wanted to first, not wishing for Harry to get into trouble at school.

"Yeah." Harry said quietly, "I did it in the cupboard."

Hermione's smile became rather fixed at that.

"How about a movie?" She asked, and Harry brightened.

"Ok." Harry said, "Dudley has watched one called Star Wars."

"Alright." Hermione, who had never watched a movie or heard of Star Wars, replied.

Hours and two movies later, Hermione finally called it a night. Her mind spun with the ideas of the movie. What if she (and Harry, of course) were Jedi? What of this 'magic' was the Force? What other things could be done with it that were not shown in the movies?

As she was walking up the stairs, she heard the phone ring. She froze, and then dashed to it, mouthing to Harry, who had been behind her:

'Go! Into the cupboard!'

Harry seemed to take the hint and ran into his cupboard as Hermione picked up the phone and twisted it to the side, making a crashing sound, as if the phone had just slipped off the hook instead of someone having picked it up.

"It's Vernon." Vernon's voice came through the phone, "We're at the hospital still. Dudley's bones have disappeared." Vernon said the last few words in a disgusted whisper, as if someone on the other end might hear him, "Dudders and I will probably be here for a few more days while they figure this all out. While we're gone, you lot better stay in that cupboard. FREAKS!"

The phone clicked off.

Hermione was a bit in shock - how in the world did she make him bones disappear? Hermione left the phone, still wondering. It had of course been part of the Force, but it was still shocking. Making bones disappear - it was crazy.

"Harry." Hermione called, still thinking, "Come on. Time to go to sleep."

* * *

The next day, Tuesday, Harry got up, but didn't go to school as usual. If the Dursleys got wind of it…

So, anyways, Hermione gave the both of them a hearty breakfast of bacon, waffles, and some fruit, beforehand, and then gave Harry some work to do so he could still learn.

Ms. Baterberry came at seven again. Hermione worked on math and science that day, for the two decided that Hermione would do english and foreign languages on Monday, math and science on Tuesday, and social studies, more math, and more science on Wednesday. Hermione also voiced her liking for learning dead languages, so the two added a few to Hermione's language list. Ms. Baterberry informed Hermione that they wouldn't spend much time on math and science on Wednesday until Hermione's social studies skills were up to the same level as the rest of hers, much to Hermione's disappointment.

Ms. Baterberry left at three, Hermione feeling like she had learned much more in a day than she ever had before and Ms. Baterberry looking a bit worn out over how much she had taught. Ms. Baterberry did look happy, though, Hermione recalled.

After three, Hermione decided to make some money for herself. She grabbed a few sheets of paper and made flyers, each one stating her name and what jobs she could do from seven to three thirty (when Harry got back from school) on Thursdays to Fridays. She could always say that she hung them up before she was put into the cupboard if the Dursleys asked. By the time she had hung them up around the neighborhood and in the park Harry had finished the schoolwork she had given him.

"Star Wars?" Harry asked, showing her his completed homework. Hermione nodded and they bounded into the living room.

After the credits for the final movie in the trilogy rolled, Hermione mentally went over all of the things the Force could do (that were shown in the movie, of course). Her levitation was used, but not her bone breaking (and bone vanishing). In the movie only, push, pull, lightning, levitation, mind trick, and force choking were showed. She also kind of knew push and pull, for she had made the taco fly around the room. Hermione thought back to the incident and remembered that she had kept the contents of the taco from spilling. So that had been like a force field, of sorts. Just the idea of an actual force field that could protect her set her mind shouting with joy (and telling her to hurry up and learn how to do it). That, though, reminded her of Harry's (and her) aura, and the strange barrier around Privet Drive. Perhaps the barrier was a force field, and the auras showed if they were force users… but she was getting sidetracked, and it was late.

Hermione eventually decided to learn the force choke, mind trick, and lightning before anything else. She knew they were actually possible, and, well, offence was defence, she reasoned. Also, the mind trick was very intriguing... one word and Vernon and Dudley would never come back.

* * *

Wednesday started out like Tuesday did until Ms. Baterberry came. When the bell rung at seven, Hermione opened the door to see not one person - but two. Next to Ms. Baterberry was a young woman who was perhaps in her early thirties. She had brown eyes and long, dark brown hair that was pulled up into a bun. She was wearing a white blouse and a red skirt and looked very much like a teacher.

"Hello again, Hermione." Ms. Baterberry said, "This is a friend of mine, Professor Septima Vector. She's a professor at a prestigious school."

Hermione looked at Professor Vector with curiosity and amusement. Hermione was curious to why this Professor Vector from a prestigious school was here with Ms. Baterberry. Also, which school was she from, and what did she teach? For the amusement bit of it, well, the professor's first name meant 'the seventh' in Latin, and Vector… well, she probably was a mathematics or physics teacher with _that_ name.

"Good morning, Ms. Baterberry and Professor Vector." Hermione said, resisting the urge to start asking questions at the rate of a mile a minute. Hermione stepped out of the way so Professor Vector and Ms. Baterberry could come in. The trio adjourned to the office.

"So, Hermione," Ms. Baterberry began as they sat down, "Professor Vector is here to see if you can get into this school."

Hermione's excitement shot up like a rocket, but her suspicion quickly followed. How in the world had word of her gotten around so fast?

"Here you go - Hermione, correct?" Professor Vector said, pulling out a piece of paper from her pocket. Hermione grinned at the problem that used maths that she had learned yesterday - yes, this would be _fun_.

Approximately a minute later (one of the longest amounts of time Hermione had ever spent on a problem), Hermione handed the paper back to Professor Vector, whose eyebrows had risen past her hairline and seemed to be circling to the back of her head.

"Correct." Professor Vector announced weakly, comparing Hermione's work to another paper she pulled out of her pocket. Then she looked back at Hermione.

"What is 49 times 87?" She asked.

"4263." Hermione quickly replied.

"88765 times 90123 divided by 15." Professor Vector said next.

"533317873" Hermione shot back.

Professor Vector took out a clipboard from her backpack, which Hermione hadn't noticed before, and marked something on her paper. Then she said:

"What does the word 'accico' mean?"

Hermione thought for a quarter of a minute or so before replying:

"'I summon' in Latin."

Professor Vector looked at her curiously, and Hermione fought the urge to squirm. After a long minute, Professor Vector began to speak again.

"What about 'expecto patronum?'" She asked. Hermione looked back at Professor Vector, wondering why she was asking these specific translations.

"'I await a guardian.'" Hermione said as she thought about the translations. They were both like commands… hmm…

"What about 'expelliarmus'?" Professor Vector continued. This one took Hermione a bit longer, for there were two separate translations squished together.

"I banish weapons." Hermione replied after a half a minute. Professor Vector marked something else on the paper before saying:

"¿Hablas español? ¿Quiénes son las personas en tu familia?" ( **Translation:** "Do you speak spanish? Who are the people in your family?")

"我会讲西班牙语。我的养父是弗农杜斯利，我的收养兄弟是达德利杜斯利和哈利" ( **Translation:** "I speak spanish. My adoptive father is Vernon Dursley and my adoptive brothers are Dudley Dursley and Harry.") Hermione replied, deciding it was time to speed this process along, "En español es: yo hablo español. Mi padre adoptivo es Vernon Dursley y mis hermanos adoptivos son Dudley Dursley y Harry." ( **Translation:** "In Spanish: I speak spanish. My adoptive father is Vernon Dursley and my adoptive brothers are Dudley Dursley and Harry.")

"什么是最后一个男孩的姓氏？" ( **Translation:** "What is the last boy's surname?") Professor Vector asked, seeming suspiciously fixated on Harry. Hermione narrowed her eyes and replied:

"Il a été adopté, mais il m'a dit que le nom de famille de ses parents biologiques était Potter." ( **Translation:** He is adopted, but he told me that his biological parents' last name was Potter.)

Professor Vector gasped and then quickly covered her mouth. Hermione's eyes narrowed even further, looking like slits. Professor Vector shakely began her next question.

"Ποιο είναι το αγαπημένο σας χρώμα?" ( **Translation:** What is your favorite color?) She asked, attempting to divert Hermione's attention. Hermione, who would never fall for such a simple trick, filed this information away and went along with Professor Vector.

"Το αγαπημένο μου χρώμα είναι μαύρο." ( **Translation:** My favorite color is black.) Hermione replied curtly, and followed up with her own question, "Warum sagten dir all die Worte, die du mir gegeben hast, die Bedeutung von Befehlen?" ( **Translation:** Why were all of the words you had me tell you the meaning of seem like commands?)

"Es war nur ein Zufall." Professor Vector replied, but Hermione detected a hint of fear in her words. ( **Translation:** It was just a coincidence.)

"Well, thank you, Hermione." Professor Vector said after a few minutes of silence in which the two stared at each other, leaving Ms. Baterberry seeming very confused. Professor Vector stood up and left the office, leaving behind her clipboard. Hermione snatched it up and took after her. Hermione opened the front door to see - no Professor Vector. _Where in the world had she gone so fast?_ Hermione thought as she shut the door. On her way back to the office, Hermione looked down at the paper on the clipboard. She almost stopped breathing at the last word.

 _Hermione_

 _Knowledge of mathematics: ✓_

 _Knowledge of meanings of incantations: ✓_

 _Knowledge of other languages: ✓_

 _Aura: Strong_

 _Knowledge of a supernatural force: __


	5. Now You See Me, Now You Don't

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

 **Chapter 4 - Now You See Me, Now You Don't**

Author's Note: Read and review!

 _Knowledge of a supernatural force. Supernatural force. Force. Force. The Force._ The words played and replayed so many times in Hermione's head that she didn't realize how much time had passed until Mrs. Baterberry called her name. Hermione then quickly hid the clipboard a cabinet in the kitchen and returned to the office, the words still sounding in her mind. There were now followed by a thesis; _Professor Vector was a Jedi._ Perhaps even a Jedi Master. Jedi or Jedi Master, Hermione now knew Septima Vector was Hermione's way into the world of the Jedi. Hermione now remembered seeing a distinct aura around Jedi Vector - but it seemed to be faint, but not the type that was of a Jedi that hadn't discovered their abilities and the force, it was the type that seemed almost hidden.

And, now with a steely determination, Hermione had been determined to find her. Convince her to bring her to a Jedi Master so Hermione could be a Jedi apprentice- or even apprentice Hermione to herself.

But Hermione didn't know where to find Jedi Vector. Nor did she know where to start looking. So Hermione resolved to keep her eyes open, ask Ms. Baterberry, and learn as much as she could. Perhaps Jedi Vector would find _her._

Hermione entered the office again and asked Ms. Baterberry about Professor Vector.

"Whom are you talking about?" Ms. Baterberry asked Hermione, looking confused.

Hermione's mind went haywire until she realized that Jedi Vector probably mind tricked Ms. Baterberry into forgetting her. Smart.

But that wouldn't help Hermione at all.

* * *

The weeks passed, June blurring into July. Vernon and Dudley left to the Americas in hope of finding something that could help Dudley, so Hermione mind tricked them into leaving her and Harry in Number Four, Privet Drive without someone to watch over them.

Speaking of mind tricking, Hermione mastered three of the force abilities shown in the trilogy: push, pull, and levitation. She still wasn't very good at mind trick, and ha never done force choke or lightning. Hermione practiced the last two on a few bugs, but, alas, nothing happened. Hermione also began experimenting: she could create a force field around herself, which was done due to a great amount of effort on Hermione's part and a lot of throwing water balloons and laughing on Harry's part. Harry stopped laughing when Hermione doused him from water that she floated above his head.

Harry, on the other hand, was still struggling with levitation, the most basic of them all. Hermione had tried to explain it to him, but Harry had yet to lift something heavier than a feather. He couldn't even see auras or the force field around Number Four. Hermione began to investigate it, and, seeing it did nothing to birds and squirrels or her and Harry, she developed a thesis that it was shielding the house from a certain person, or perhaps certain people.

Harry, on the other hand, was doing much better at school than he had before, getting straight _A_ s now that he had the time to do homework. Speaking of school, it was almost over. Hopefully that would give Hermione and Harry more time to practice over the summer, and work. The Dursleys' electric bills and such were being paid through their account, but Hermione and Harry had already run out of the spare cash they found in Vernon's room for groceries.

Hermione's sessions with Mr. Baterberry went well. On Thursdays and Fridays, Hermione made some money by babysitting the children on the block, and mowing lawns, and being hired as a personal chef for parties (only two had asked her that so far, but Hermione had heard the word spreading of her culinary skills). When Hermione had spare time, she read, practiced the force, read, and re-watched the trilogy. Hermione decided that she needed a stronger connection to the force to more fully master mind trick, force choke, and lightning. She went about this by meditation.

As the weeks passed by and Hermione's abilities grew, she didn't ever catch sight of Jedi Vector, no matter how hard she looked. One day, however, she found something else.

Hermione walked into the garden and began tending to it, for it was looking very wild with the weeds sticking out everywhere. She was about to cut one when a hissing voice said:

? _Get out! Get out! Get out, humansssss, or face my venom!_?

Hermione backed away, spotting a large black snake slither out of the flowers towards her.

? _Wait!_? Hermione said, and the snake's head snapped up towards her. Hermione had finally realized this was a black mamba. Very poisonous. Very lethal.

? _Sssspeaker?_? It asked excitedly, lifting its head up to look Hermione in the eye. Hermione stifled a gasp.

? _You can undersssstand me?_? Hermione asked the snake. The snake nodded, and Hermione actually did gasp this time.

? _You are sssspeaking the noble tongue of the sserpentssss._? It said to Hermione. Hermione listened to herself closely as she said:

? _What issss your name?_? Hermione realized that she was speaking another language. It sounded different from English when she concentrated. It was really just a series of hisses that _meant_ something... But she had never learned it before...

? _There isss no version of it in humansss tongue, but I am_? And the snake let out a hiss. Hermione thought for a second.

? _Can I call you Yvette?_? She asked the snake, who she had deemed as a she from her hissed name.

? _Yesssssss, that isss a nice name._? The newly named Yvette said, ? _Isss there anything I can do for you, ssssspeaker?_?

Hermione opened her mouth to hiss ?no?, but then changed her mind.

? _Yessss, actually,_? Hermione hissed,? _If you don't mind, can you look out for a human for me?_?

? _Which one, sssspeaker? There are many humansssss._? Yvette hissed, perking up.

? _A younger middling female with brown eyes and long, dark brown hair._? Hermione replied, and Yvette nodded.

? _Vissssit ssssoon?_? Yvette asked hopefully. Hermione nodded and Yvette slithered off.

Hermione sat down in the garden, thinking about what just happened. She eventually just chalked it up to her force abilities. It did make sense - the force connected all living things.

That got her thinking about how, now, she couldn't really _feel_ the force. She couldn't sense things, like Obi Wan, Luke, Yoda, and Anakin could.

So she stood to go inside, determined. Nothing could stop her.

"Hello!" Well, that probably could make her wait. Hermione turned to see a middle aged couple who had just walked over, standing by the pathway to the door.

"Good morning." Hermione replied, walking over to the couple and hiding her dirty hands behind her back. Once Hermione reached the two, she held out her now clean hand to the nearest, the woman.

"Hello, madam. I'm Hermione." Hermione said sweetly, hoping for a client. The woman took her hand and they shook.

"Hello, Hermione, I'm Christina Thames, and this is my husband, Daniel. We're new to the neighborhood and heard a rumor." The woman said. Hermione also shook Mr. Thames' hand, her heart racing. The odds of a new client were looking up.

"Hello, Mr. Thames." She said politely.

"Hello." Mr. Thames said, "So, as Christina wasa saying - we've heard a rumor about you're good cooking, and that you cook for parties and other special events."

Hermione nodded, thinking in her head: _Score!_ Mrs. and Mr. Thames brightened.

"Great!" Mrs. Thames announced, "We have two kids, Emma and John. Emma's about your age, and John is two years younger. John's birthday is in three days, on a Saturday. We were wondering if you could cook for him and his friends? There will be about fifteen guests. You can use our kitchen, of course."

Hermione quickly accepted, and the details were laid out: The party started at eleven, and the food had to be ready by twelve, when the kids ate. Hermione would make pizza, a special drink and cake (the last two were Hermione's suggestions, at which the couple seemed shocked that she could make those foods and drinks). She would get paid two hundred and fifty dollars for her service, and the Thames would buy the ingredients (now, Hermione thought this was a bit overkill on the Thames' part, but accepted the offer quickly anyways). Hermione informed them that she would be there at eight. The Thames' asked if it was alright with her guardians, so Hermione made a show of going inside and asking (the thin air, of course, what else?), and then came back with a yes.

 _Then_ Hermione set off to go inside again, determined. She sat down on the chair, closed her eyes, and reached out.

She used that term for it. For some reason, it felt right.

She closed her eyes and cleared her mind, like she normally did in her meditation, and reached out. She searched for a few seconds, and then -

It was there.

She felt like she could see the whole world. She saw it. Connecting all life. Privet Drive. The orphanage. Life. Death and decay, and the cycle in which decay fed new life. Birth. Warmth and coldness. Water and Fire. Ice and flames. Shadow and Light. Peace and violence. And between it all - balance and energy. The force. It was inside her, giving out that aura that she recognized.

Yes. She had truly connected to it. She could feel it.

 _The force._

* * *

Hermione knocked on the door of the Thames' house, more than a bit annoyed. Harry was still in the same place as he was last week with the force. He couldn't even clear his mind, let alone connect to it! And he was still on levitation. Hermione had left him with some meditation practice when she had left.

"Hello?" The door opened to reveal a girl with blond hair and blue eyes, "Are you Hermione?"

"Yes." Hermione replied, and the girl stepped back to let her in.

"I'm Emma." She said, but Hermione barely heard her. She had felt the girl's aura from outside, and now she could see it: the aura of a force user that hadn't realized their abilities or the force yet. Dim, but still there.

"This way to the kitchen." Emma announced, leading Hermione through a living room and a dining room into a rather large kitchen, "Well, it was nice meeting you."

Emma grabbed a book off the counter awkwardly and left, reading.

Hermione took the ingredients out for the meal, still (partially) lost in thought. Should she tell Emma of her powers? Or leave the girl to figure it out herself?

Hermione didn't realize how much time had flown by when she heard the pitter patter of feet and the shouts of children. Hermione looked up at the clock and realized that it was eleven twenty five. She put the pizzas into the oven and finished decorating the rocket cake, which she had actually made into a rocket shape, hoping to impress the Thames so they would hire her again. She took out some clear, smooth rock candy from the fridge that looked like glass and placed them into the holes in the rocket that resembled windows. She carefully popped open the door to a hollow compartment and made sure all of the figures inside were stuck, and then popped the door back in. She surveyed her work with a grin.

Thirty five minutes later, Hermione came out and served the pizzas. And special drink, which was a homemade fruit punch. She spotted Emma, Mr. Thames, and Mrs. Thames sitting by a separate table, so served them there after she served the kids. Emma was still reading, so didn't notice when Hermione gave her a long look.

When they had finished, Hermione cleared the plates to many "You're the chef? It's awesome!"s from the kids and a few compliments from the parents. Hermione nodded to herself. It was going well so far.

Then she brought out the cake.

There were gasps from everyone (even Emma, who had looked up at the commotion). Hermione set the cake down and placed the candle on top of the rocket.

"It's all edible." Hermione said to the parents as they inspected the figures and the glass, "The door opens." She added to John, who was looking at her with awe.

"Best. Birthday. Ever." John announced, and the kids (and the parents) sang and then ate. Everyone was looking amazed at the cake, eating it with content smiles on her faces. Hermione leaned back against the wall and congratulated herself when one of the kids said to her:

"Can you cook for me at my party? It's in a week."

The rest of the kids burst into questions of the sort for Hermione, all of which she answered with a:

"Of course, but you should ask your parents first."

All of the kids agreed to that.

* * *

Hermione stood outside of the door, staring at Emma, who had led her out. This was her last chance to tell her - well, at least for now. Hermione had studied Emma over the course of the party and had come to the conclusion to start the conversation bluntly, or Emma would never notice, too focused on her book.

"You're a Jedi." Hermione matter-a-factly told her. And Emma cocked her head, as if waiting for something. When a minute passed and all Hermione could feel from Emma was that she was confused and… was that a little fear? - Emma replied:

"Oh, I see. It was a joke." And slammed the door shut.

 _Well,_ Hermione thought, controlling her anger at being turned down, _that went well._

* * *

"Now," Hermione said to a meditating Harry, "Reach out."

Harry stuck his hand out. Hermione mentally facepalmed and slapped his hand.

"OW!" Harry shouted, tumbling off the rock he was sitting on. He looked up to an exasperated Hermione sheepishly.

"You meant figuratively." Harry said in realization, "You know, like from the heart. Yeah. Er- ok."

Hermione glared at him.

* * *

"Close your eyes!" Harry shouted at Hermione, who promptly did, even thought it was hard enough to see in the dark anyways. Suddenly, her force connection was heightened - just like Obi Wan told Luke it would. Without her eyes deceiving her, Hermione walked over to the spot where Harry had hidden the bow and arrow. She heard Harry gasp, and felt his surprise and excitement. Along with that, though, was a bit of disappointment… Hermione frowned, but didn't delve deeper into the emotion, focused on her task.

Hermione drew the arrow back with practiced ease, and then turned, releasing it.

Hermione didn't have to open her eyes to know that the arrow had hit the bull's eye.

Shot after shot, Hermione slowly got farther away from the target, until she was standing on one edge of the park and the target was on the other.

Hermione drew and released the arrow so fast that the whizz of the arrow cutting through the air was the only indication for Harry that Hermione had shot until the arrow slammed into the rest, slicing the others in half.

 _Bull's eye._

Hermione placed the bow down and was about to open her eyes when she sensed someone behind her. She was about to grab the bow when she recognized the person from the force.

 _Jedi Vector._

Hermione opened her eyes to hear a crack. But she had seen Jedi Vector with her green _robes_. And then she had seen Jedi Vector twirl, and then disappear.


	6. To Be Sorry

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers.

Chapter 5 - To Be Sorry

 **Author's Note: We were over 500 views on the second day, people! Thank you so much! And a special thanks to my reviewers: Son of Whitebeard, omaribacache316, and leonix2009.**

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"Happy Birthday, Harry!" Hermione announced, levitating a large cake from the kitchen. Harry's mouth dropped open at the cake, which was in the shape of R2D2. Hermione set it infront of him and proceeded to have him blow out the candles. Harry did, pausing to close his eyes and make a wish.

A few seconds later, he blew out the candles and opened his eyes. Hermione handed him the knife (with a "be careful" of course). Harry cut the cake and the two dug in.

"Here." Hermione said after they had finished, handing him his present.

A delighted look passed over Harry's face, and then he carefully opened the present to reveal -

"I know it's not much," Hermione said nervously, hoping that he would like it, "But I thought you would like-"

Harry suddenly stood up and hugged Hermione, who froze, not used to the gesture.

"It's amazing." Harry said, pulling away, "How did you know I liked R2 he best?"

"Because you told me a million times." Hermione said, trying to recover. Harry grinned at her, and then looked back at the miniature ice sculpture of R2D2.

"I bought an insulator and installed it into the sculpture." Hermione continued, feeling pride that she had made it so the insulator couldn't be seen, "But you still should put it in the freezer every night."

"So. Awesome!" Harry gushed, and wrapped Hermione in another hug.

* * *

The next day was a Sunday, so Harry and Hermione practiced their powers again. Hermione _tried_ to be more patient with Harry, but he _still_ didn't have levitation down. Hermione walked him through the steps again, and then shortly told him to do it.

Harry closed his eyes and his eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. Then, suddenly, he gasped. Hermione turned to look at the rock Harry was trying to lift, but it hadn't moved an inch. Not a single one. She has felt it, though. A spark from Harry to the rock - but it had sputtered out.

"I felt it!" Harry shouted in joy, his eyes open and a smile that seemed to be a mile high on his face. Hermione sighed, fighting down her irritation, and turned to Harry, who was bouncing up and down on the ground.

"Focus!" Hermione said, some of her roped irritation coming through. Harry quieted instantly, looking confused. Hermione pointed to the rock and Harry let out a sigh before sitting down.

* * *

Hermione stared up at the ceiling of the living room, where Harry and Hermione had decided to sleep. Harry was out, snoring beside her. He hadn't gotten anything else while they were practicing earlier today.

Hermione pushed her thoughts about Harry away, not wanting to get to annoyed. She instead focused on Jedi Vector's disappearance.

At first, Hermione thought that she simply had disappeared, and then left. But that voice of reason argued with her - _She couldn't of,_ it whispered in her head, _no, you know you couldn't feel her presence when she left._

So Hermione thought. And thought. Her mind supplied countless ways as to how Jedi Vector had done it - turning invisible and then jumping down a trapdoor, turning invisible and then getting in an invisible x-wing, the list went on. Her voice of reason rejected all of them.

 _Well, maybe she just teleported, then!_ Hermione's non voice of reason shouted at her voice of reason sarcastically. The voice of reason went silent.

 _No. Way._ Hermione's non voice of reason said excitedly, _I got something RIGHT for once?_

But it actually right. It made sense.

A Jedi could _teleport_.

* * *

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY!" Hermione shouted at the little bug before her, "YOU'RE GIVING ME HORRIBLE LUCK! I'VE BEEN WORKING ON MY LIGHTNING AND FORCE CHOKE FOR THE PAST SEVEN DAYS AND IT ISN"T WORKING!"

The little bug looked up at her, before flying away.

"AAAAAAARRRGGGGGHHHHHH!"

"Hermione?" Came Harry's soft (and perhaps frightened) voice from behind her.

"What." Hermione replied shortly, still fuming.

"I think I know why it isn't working."

Hermione whipped her head around, her eyes wide.

"And?" She asked hopefully.

"It's because you're not on the Dark Side. Only the Sith and Vader can do those."

Hermione stared.

"Oh."

* * *

After _that_ episode, Hermione decided to treat Harry with extra practice.

?￢ﾀﾝ _He takesssss long to lift rock with mind._ "? Yvette said from Hermione's side. The snake had taken a liking to Hermione, to say the least, and now could be found at her side almost always.

?￢ﾀﾜ _I know, Yvette._ "? Hermione replied.

The two watched as he closed his eyes and breathed in -

 _BOOM._

Hermione spun around to see that a thunderstorm had crept up on them. She sighed. Time to go in. She turned back to Harry, opening her mouth.

 _What._

Floating in front of Harry was the large rock he had been attempting to levitate. Harry stood in front of it, his eyes closed.

They slowly peeked open.

Harry's mouth dropped.

"I DID IT!" Harry shouted, "HERMIONE I DID -"

 _THUMP._

Looking at the fallen rock on the ground, all Hermione could do was sigh.

?" _Pathetic."_? Yvette agreed.

* * *

Hermione slashed her hand at the last water balloon, her force abilities making her hand faster and sharper. The water balloon broke in two five feet from Hermione.

Harry, who was on the other side of the hidden part of the park that Hermione had found, cheered. He walked over to Hermione, who instantly noticed that he was hiding something - a water balloon, her force senses told her, behind his back.

In a quick throw, a water balloon was hurtling at her -

Only to stop where it was, turn around, and pop over Harry.

Hermione smirked at him.

"Sooo..." Harry said, a hint of smugness entering his voice, even though he was currently drenched in water from a water balloon he had just thrown, "Have you figure out how to do that teleporting thing that Jedi Vector did?"

Hermione glared at Harry. Hermione had told Harry that what Jedi Vector had been doing was teleporting _six days ago_ , and Hermione still wasn't able to do it. Hermione had grown _very_ frustrated; it had never taken her that long before at _anything_ related to the force! (Other than the Dark side stuff, but that didn't count.)

"No." Hermione ground out, and promptly used the force to lift Harry up by his ankle leave him hanging upside down in a tree, "You haven't even mastered levitation, though - so perhaps you'll figure it out now."

And she left.

* * *

Hermione felt a bit guilty as she walked away. But Harry was _soooo annoying_ right now, and he had to be taught a lesson. Hermione's thoughts flashed to the direction of Lindsay and the orphanage. The other kids had been annoying at first, but Hermione didn't teach them a lesson. Not until Lindsay. And that annoyingness continued until they thought they could push her around without large consequences. So they did. Harry needed to be taught a lesson, yes he did. Hermione's resolve was firm, and she crushed any doubt- a whisper in her head that said _Harry wouldn't do that_ and walked on.

Hermione had almost reached Number Four and was about to turn back, worried about Harry, when her force senses went haywire, recognizing the person who was lurking behind a bush.

Hermione didn't think. Her instinct took over, and she leaped.

She had touched the hem of Jedi Vector's robes when with a crack, the two disappeared.

* * *

It was dark. Yes. So dark. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but she had no air left. She attempted to breath but there was nothing for her to suck in -

Hermione opened her eyes to see - a hospital room? Hermione sat up quickly, jumping off the white bed and looking around. Where was she? The room was white with hospital beds lined up around the room. In the corner were two doors, both of which were shut. Hermione walked over to one of them and was about to open it when a voice stopped her.

"Stop right there, young lady!"

Hermione turned around, frightened, to see an old lady standing behind her,, a stern look on her face. The woman pushed Hermione back onto the bed and took out - wait, was that a stick? - and waved it at Hermione.

"Alright." The woman said after a while to a bewildered, "You may go now."

"Go where?" Hermione asked. The woman didn't look up from the piece of paper she was writing on (with a quill?), but said in a no-nonsense tone:

"To Headmaster Dumbledore's office, of course."

Hermione looked at the woman as if she'd grown a head or two.

"Whom?" Hermione asked, fighting to keep the bewilderment out of her tone.

The woman looked up, realization dawning on her features.

"Are you a muggleborn, dear?"

Forget a head. Hermione was looking at the lady as if she'd grown seven.

"A what?"

The woman nodded to herself, and then pulled Hermione up, walking to the door Hermione had previously been caught attempting to open.

"Follow me, deary."

* * *

Hogwarts, as Hermione quickly learned from the woman, Madam Pomfrey, was a school. As Hermione spotted the moving staircases (a hundred and forty two of them, which apparently some led somewhere different every other day, some that moved on Fridays, and some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump), animated portraits, and doors (some of them opened only if you tickled them, and some of them weren't doors at all, just walls pretending), she grew more and more convinced that Hogwarts wasn't just a school.

It was a school for _Jedi_ s.

They arrived in the Headmaster's office, Hermione's prepared speech for letting her into the school going through her mind at about two hundred miles an hour. Hermione looked to the desk to see an old man who reminded her of Yoda (he was much taller and not green, of course) sitting there.

"Would you like a lemon drop?" The man asked. Hermione, who hadn't ever taken a liking to the candy, politely turned him down.

"Go on, sit down, Hermione." The old man, who was probably Headmaster Dumbledore, said, "That is your name, correct?"

Hermione nodded and took a seat.

There was an awkward silence, and then Hermione launched into her speech, wanting to get it over with.

"Hello, Headmaster, I'm Hermione. Recently, I realized I was a Jedi and began looking for some of my kind. When Jedi Vector disappeared I touched the hem of her robes and awoke here, only to learn that this school was a school for Jedi. I was wondering if I could be allowed in, sir, you see -"

Headmaster Dumbledore chuckled merrily at her.

"You're a witch, Hermione." He said.

* * *

Hermione stared at the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry two hours later, her mind still processing what he had told her. But - but - well, she had been sure she was a Jedi. It had - and still, frankly, made sense. The whole witch and wizard thing, though, made more sense. So - yes - she accepted it.

"So, Hermione, where are you living now?" Headmaster Dumbledore asked. Hermione looked at him like _oh, sure, that's not creepy at all_ , and replied:

"At Number Four, Privet Drive. I'm adopted and -"

Hermione gasped, remembering. And, in a split second, all she wanted to do was to go back to the park to get Harry down from that tree and make sure he was alright - it didn't matter how annoying he was -

 _Crack._

* * *

Hermione appeared in the park. It was dark, very dark, by now. She raced over to the tree, for the moment uncaring that she had just teleported. No, she was just focused on Harry, who was currently hanging upside down from a tree.

Using the force, Hermione lifted him down onto the grass. She ran over to him.

His eyes were closed, and his head was very, very red.

"Harry." Hermione whispered, "Harry! Harry! Harry wake up!"

Nothing happened. Hermione pressed her ear to his chest and was relieved to find he was still breathing. But what if he was in a coma?

"HARRY! Harry, please." Hermione said the last in a desperate whisper, tears streaming down her face, "Harry just wake up..."

Hermione pulled Harry's limp body into a hug, and cried.

"Harry." She whispered, and for the first time in her life:

"I'm sorry."

And she meant it. She was truly sorry for leaving him in a tree, for being so mad, for not remembering him right away -

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry's eyes fluttered open.

"I forgive you, Hermione."


	7. Hogwarts

Disclaimer: _Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Chapter 6 - Hogwarts

Author's Note: We've reached 1000 views! Thanks to my reviewers biggestfangirlever and leonix2009. Here's the next chapter:

After Hermione almost hugged Harry to death, she began telling him of Hogwarts, and how the two were witch and wizard. Harry hung on to every word as she recounted how magical Hogwarts was. The two stayed where they were, sitting underneath a tall oak tree, until Hermione's tale ended.

"I just really wanted to come back and get you down, Harry." Hermione said, her voice cracking, "I think I might have teleported. And - I'm really, really sorry. I didn't meant for you to get hurt-"

"Hermione, I'm alright." Harry, who was now sitting up beside Hermione, replied. Indeed, all of the redness had gone from his head, "Maybe it wasn't good for you to leave me - alright, it wasn't, really, but I was kind of being mean. I just - I just want to be able to do what you can Hermione. You've always been better than me, and I was happy when you _couldn't_ do something. That was mean. And _you came back_. You came back to get me, even though you were probably hundreds of miles away in a magic school."

There was silence.

"But, er- maybe next time you could not leave me upside down in a tree?" Harry continued.

"Never again, Harry." Hermione replied, "Never again."

Harry scooted a little closer to her. Hermione put one arm around him shoulder. There was a silence for a moment.

"Um - what will Dumbledore - that's his name, right? - be thinking right now?" Harry asked, "You didn't exactly tell him you were leaving."

"I'm not sure, actually." Hermione said with a little laugh, "I told him where we lived, though, so I'm sure he'll be able to find us."

Harry nodded, and leaned up against Hermione with a yawn, giving Hermione a hug with one arm.

"I'm tired." He said, "Can we stay here for a little bit?"

"Ok." Hermione said, and the two fell asleep in the other's arms under the twinkling stars.

* * *

"Ms. Hermione!" Hermione jerked awake to see Headmaster Dumbledore standing above her and Harry, looking very relieved, "Is this who you came back for? Young Harry?"

"Yes." Hermione said, sliding out of Harry's arms and fighting a blush, "Um - he's my adopted brother, you see. I couldn't leave him here all alone."

Headmaster Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Here." Headmaster Dumbledore said, "I will take him back to a bed at Hogwarts. I'll be right back for you."

The Headmaster grabbed ahold of a sleeping Harry and disappeared with a _pop_.

It was only after he'd left that Hermione realized she had never told the Headmaster Harry's name.

* * *

Hermione stood in the hallway at Hogwarts, patiently waiting for Professor Vector. SInce it was early and Harry was still sleeping, Hermione was going to get a tour from her.

"Ms. Hermione?"

Hermione whirled around to see Jed- er - _Professor_ Vector (who, Hermione learned, was the Professor of Arithmancy) standing behind her.

"Hello, Professor." Said Hermione, looking up at the person who she had been searching for.

"Since we have discovered that you and your brother have been _living alone_ ," Professor Vector began, and took the opportunity to glance disapprovingly at Hermione, who honestly still thought she was right, "You will be staying at Hogwarts until the term starts on September 1st."

Hermione instantly brightened.

"Excuse me, professor, when will we get our school supplies?"Hermione asked politely, making sure her excitement only showed in a reasonable amount.

"Tomorrow." Professor Vector said, "I will escort you. Your clothes and things that you have have already be brought here. They are waiting to be brought where you want to sleep."

Hermione nodded, and the two exited the office.

"So, where would you and your brother like to sleep?" Professor Vector asked as they stood by the gargoyle to the office, "In the Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor dorms? He is in the Gryffindor ones now."

Hermione pretended to think, but inside, she was elated. This was her chance to scout out the territories!

"Could I see them first and then decide?" Hermione asked slyly. Professor Vector gave her an amused smile before agreeing.

The Gryffindor common room and dormitories were located in Gryffindor Tower. The entrance to the tower was through a painting of the Fat Lady (who's appearance was just as her name described), and the password had to be given in order to get her to swing open and reveal the common room.

Gryffindor's common room had armchairs and a roaring fire. The arched windows looked out over the Quidditch Pitch, lake, and the Forbidden Forest. Hermione glanced over at the forest, but could only see the tree tops. A picture of Godric Gryffindor was hung above the fireplace.  
The walls were decorated with pictures of mythical creatures and important Gryffindor alumni. Mahogany spiral staircases led to the dormitories. The dormitories had mahogany four-poster beds and scarlet curtains with threaded gold hanging from it.

Hermione unsuspiciously looked around and determined that the only secret passageway other than the Fat Lady was the fireplace, which she resolved to come look at later, remembering the password to be, 'Caput Draconis', and that it would change every month or so.

The Hufflepuff common room and dormitories are located in Hufflepuff Basement. Students entered the Basement through a barrel in a stack of barrels in the kitchen corridor. They must tap the correct barrel in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff' for the lid to open and reveal the passageway to the common room. If someone tapped the wrong barrel or used the wrong rhythm, that person would be drenched in vinegar.

Hufflepuff's common room was round and cozy with a crackling fire that warmed the room. There were also low ceilings and circular windows showed rippling grass and dandelions. The room seemed sunny (something Hermione didn't particularly enjoy), a feeling enhanced by the copper furnishings and the overstuffed yellow and black sofas and chairs. Plants hung from the ceiling or sat on windowsills. Combined with the sunny feel, the common room felt like a greenhouse, in Hermione's opinion.  
Round doors in the common room led to the dormitories, which were lit by copper lamps. Patchwork quilts covered the four-poster beds, and a bed warmer hung on the wall beside every bed.

The Hufflepuff common room was also the only common room that had remained free of outsiders for over 500 years, something Hermione was sceptical of.

There was only one secret passageway: by the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff.

Hermione's second favorite was Ravenclaw, however. The Ravenclaw common room and dormitories were located in Ravenclaw Tower on the west side of the castle. The first reason why Hermione liked the tower was that the students entered through a door with an bronze eagle-shaped knocker which asked a question to anyone who knocks on it. The door would open only when the question was answered correctly. Apparently, if the riddle was especially difficult, large groups of students would gather to outside try to figure it out. Of course, when Hermione entered, she answered the question with ease.

The Ravenclaw common room was circular with arched windows that provided rather spectacular views of the Hogwarts grounds. There was a library on one wall to the left. A domed ceiling painted with stars like the night sky was also a highlight. The centerpiece of the common room was a white marble statue of founder Rowena Ravenclaw. Behind it lied the door leading to the dormitories.  
The dormitories were in turrets off the main tower, where the wind whistling around the windows could be heard. There was at least two benches by windows in a dorm, which could be used for reading. The bedsheets on the four-poster beds were made of sky blue silk.

There seemed to be not one, but three secret passageways there: the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw and her diadem, a book in the library (which also contributed to Hermione's liking of the common room and dorms), and a bricks of the fireplace.

But, by far, Hermione's favorite was Slytherin. The Slytherin common room and dormitories were located in Slytherin Dungeon. The entrance to the Slytherin common room was through a concealed stone wall. Students would have to present the correct password, which changed every fortnight, to open the wall and reveal the entrance to the common room.  
Slytherin's common room looked out into Hogwarts lake. Underwater creatures often passed by the windows, which Hermione enjoyed immensely. It had the feel of a underwater shipwreck, but it was still quite cosy with all of the couches and the fireplace.  
The dormitories had four-posters with green and silver silk hangings and bedspreads that were embroidered with silver thread (something Hermione approved of). Medieval tapestries depicting the adventures what was obviously famous Slytherins hung from the walls. The light came from enchanting silver lanterns that hung from the ceilings, which Hermione felt like she could stare at all day.  
Something else that Hermione approved of was what Professor Vector said: no outsider had entered the Slytherin common room for more than seven centuries. That one, she believed.

In addition, there were countless secret passageways, including some behind the portraits of the snakes (which Hermione could understand). The best thing, though, was the fact that the top academically for the boys and girls per year got their own room.

Between looking at the dorms and common rooms, Professor Vector gave her a short tour of the classrooms, library, great hall, and the fastest ways to get there. Hermione found all of this immensely helpful.

Afterwards, she told Professor Vector that she would like to sleep in the Slytherin dorms. The former Slytherin nodded in agreement and showed her her dorm, where her trunk of her things had somehow made its way there. Of course, that excluded the secret passageways that Hermione was sure were scattered around the school.

Professor Vector left her with a last speech:

"You may explore until dinner, when your brother will be done with his tour and will meet you. Dinner will be in the Great Hall. Remember the places I warned you not to go, especially the Forbidden Forest and the third floor corridor. Try to stay by the places I showed you, and don't go farther than the grounds. Oh, and welcome to Hogwarts."

* * *

Hermione walked down to the Great Hall for dinner, thankful she had started making her way down a little early, for she got lost no less than three times. She came into the Hall to see some of the Professors were already there: Professor Vector, Headmaster Dumbledore, and Madam Pomfrey the were the ones she knew already. To the left of the Headmaster was a thin man with sallow skin and a large, hooked nose. He had shoulder length greasy black hair that framed his face, and cold, black eyes. He was wearing long, black, flowing robes. In all, he reminded Hermione of a character in one of her books (who was a villain, but that probably didn't apply in this situation). Next to him was Professor Vector, and even farther to the left was a short wizard with brownish grey hair and pointed ears. He weakly reminded Hermione of the goblins from books. He was wearing a black suit.

On the far right was a squat witch who was wearing a patched and battered hat over her short, grey, wavy, and seemingly flyaway hair. She was wearing yellow and black robes that had bits of dirt everywhere upon them, and was smiling at Hermione happily. Hermione briefly wondered if she was the Herbology teacher Professor Vector had talked about - Professor Sprout, her name was.

Between Professor Sprout and the Headmaster was an empty chair, and across from all the teachers were two chairs that seemed a little out of place. Hermione walked up to the Head table.

"Hello, Headmaster." Hermione said as she approached the table. She looked around, "Professors."

"Good evening, Ms. Hermione." Headmaster Dumbledore replied joyvally, "This is Professor Vector, as you know, Professor Snape," the bat-like one, "Professor Flitwick," the goblin one, "and Professor Sprout."

"Hello!" Said Professor Spout, "Sit down, deary. We're just waiting for Minerva - the Transfiguration Professor - and Mr. Potter."

Hermione sat in the chair in between Professor Vector and Professor Snape.

"Excited for Hogwarts?" Professor Vector asked her.

"Yes." Hermione said, "I can't wait to learn all about magic - it sounds so interesting, and with a wand as a focus, I'm sure I'll be able to learn much more difficult things than levitation -"

Hermione looked to see that the who table had gone silent. Everyone looked shocked but the Headmaster, whose eyes were twinkling again.

"Er-" Hermione said awkwardly, "Was it something that I said."

"I think," Professor Snape replied, his voice quiet and with a hint of interest to it, "My colleagues and I are all wondering what ever you mean by learning _more_ than levitation."

"Oh." Hermione said, relieved, "Well, I discovered my magic a few months ago, so I began experimenting. I only can do levitation, push, and pull." Hermione intentionally left out mind trick, "And summoning things to myself, if you count that as a fourth."

Utter silence.

"I call her for Ravenclaw!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed excitedly.

Headmaster Dumbledore laughed.

"I'm afraid that's up to the hat, Fillius." He replied, "And you may have to fight Severus for _that._ "

Indeed, Professor Snape was looking at her in a seemingly whole new light. He quickly hid his interest, however, when a voice came from behind them:

"Fight Severus for _what_?" A tall, rather severe-looking woman stood a few feet behind Hermione, wearing emerald green robes and a pointed hat that cocked to the left at the moment. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Overall, Hermione's first impression of her was 'the strict professor'.

Beside her was Harry. He had changed into a different pair of clothes and was watching the seen with interest.

"Nothing, Minerva." Professor Snape replied, his voice sharp and very cold. Hermione first thought it was directed at the new woman – Minerva – but quickly noticed that the professor was almost downright _glaring_ at Harry. Hermione glanced at Professor Snape again, and quickly realized that she was sensing hiddenness - almost nothing, in fact, from him instead of emotions, whereas Professor Sprout and Flitwick were projecting amusement and excitement. In fact, it was just Professor Snape, Professor Vector (but not as nearly as much) and…

Headmaster Dumbledore.

Hermione pretended to pay them no more attention than anyone else did, but inside, she was bubbling with questions.

If someone asked, you would find her in the library for about the next twenty four hours after dinner.


	8. Gringotts

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

 **Author's note:** Thanks to my reviewer AlexaSixT and the guest reviewer Fast Frank. This chapter is shorter because I had to split it in half because it was to long. Here's the chapter:

Chapter 7 - Gringotts

Both Harry and Hermione had their favorite common rooms: Harry's was Gryffindor and Hermione's was SLytherin. Hermione eventually conceded to sleeping in the Gryffindor tower _if -_ and _only_ _if -_ Harry let her spend as much time in the library as she liked. SHe had to learn _everything_ about the wizarding world to get caught up, after all

In the morning, Professor Vector picked them up, and brought them to their office.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Hermione" She said, "How was your night?"

"Very pleasant, thank you for asking." Hermione replied.

Professor Vector showed them how to use the floo - a concept that intrigued Hermione very much - and they were off.

They arrived in the Leaky Cauldron. In Hermione's opinion, it didn't seem very nice: it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Professor Vector muttered something under her breath, clearly unhappy about the situation they were currently in: everyone, the bartender included, was outright staring at the trio by the fireplace.

 _That's rather rude._ Hermione thought, and then couldn't help but wonder if they did this to all newcomers, or if their group was just unlucky.

She didn't have to wait long to figure it out.

"Good Lord." The bartender whispered rather loudly, peering at Harry, "Is this-can this be-?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Potter and seized his hand, tears in his eyes. Hermione stepped closer to Harry, utterly confused as to why that Harry was getting all of the attention. What in the _world_ was going on, here?

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Harry seemed to not know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hermione almost wrinkled her nose at her: how could someone be so unaware?

Then there was a great scraping of chairs, and Hermione stepped back, sensing (with the force-er- _magic_ , of course, but also with common sense) that the people coming straight at Harry like moths to a light. Professor Vector managed to step back just in time, for the next moment, as Hermione predicted, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last." One said.

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud." Another almost shrieked, making Hermione want to plug her ears.

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, thank you so much for what you did that night."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" Harry suddenly exclaimed, making Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement, "You bowed to me once in a shop."

 _I'm sorry, what?_

Hermione kept on listening.

"He remembers!" Dedalus Diggle cried, looking around at everyone as if to assure them of what they had just overheard, "Did you hear that? He remembers me!"

Harry shook hands again and again. A man named Doris Crockford kept coming back for more, much to Hermione's annoyance. They had places to be, for goodness sake!

A pale young man made his way forward very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching, and his whole body seemed to quake.

"Professor Quirrell." Professor Vector said from the side, "It is nice to see you out an about. Mr. Potter, Professor Quirrell will be one of your professors at Hogwarts."

Hermione leaned forward, wanting to get a better look at her new professor. He didn't seem like much, but, as she'd learned, you should never judge a book by it's cover. Much.

"P-P-Potter," Professor Quirrell stammered, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked, voicing one of Hermione's questions.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," Professor Quirrell muttered as though he'd rather not think about it. Hermione's doubts about his competency increased significantly at his tone, "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" Hermione's gaze darkened in worry: Harry couldn't even levitate a feather! How was he supposed to _not need_ Defence Against the Dark Arts?! Professor Quirrell laughed nervously, "You'll be g-getting all your e-equipment, I s-s-sup-ppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked _terrified_ at the very thought.

The other _fans_ in the shop wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. In fact, they would have kept shaking his hand if one had not spotted Hermione looking protectively a Harry.

"Who's this?" The middle-aged woman asked, "Does Mr. Potter have a _girlfriend_?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say how _ridiculous_ it would be for an eleven year old to have a girlfriend when -

"Hermione's my sister."

The whole shop gasped, their eyes flickering back and forth between the two. There was a tense silence before everything burst into hullabaloo.

"HE HAS A SISTER?"

"They don't look much alike-"  
"Well, if you look at her from this angle-"

"Whats her name? What's her name?"

"Lily and James had another kid?"

"Why haven't we heard about this already?"

"WHAT-"

"Could I ask your name, darling?"

It took almost twenty more minutes to get away from them all. At last, Profesor Vector, who had not managed to make herself heard over the babble so far, drew her wand (what Hermione had learned most wizards couldn't do magic without, much to her astonishment). With three piercing cracks, the room fell quiet once again.

"Now, if you all are quite finished _bombarding_ Mr. Potter, we have places to be." Professor Vector said coldly, making Hermione wonder if she was a Slytherin, "Mr. Potter, Ms. Hermione - let's go."

Doris Crockford attempted to barge his way to Potter again, but, at Professor Vector's glare, he stepped back, chuckling nervously. Professor Vector led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds. Hermione immediately spotted a few bricks on the wall that glowed, what she'd now come to realize was a magic revealer.

Professor Vector turned to a very overwhelmed looking Harry. Hermione felt a stab of sympathy.

"I'll explain later." The Professor said.

"Is he always that nervous?" Harry asked as Professor Vector turned to the brick wall with glowing bricks, "Professor Quirrell, I mean?"

"Yes." Professor Vector replied sharply, "He took a year off to get some firsthand experience. There are some rumors, but you shouldn't be listening to them. It's Quirinius' business, not yours.

Professor Vector began to count bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"It's those ones, isn't it?" Hermione asked the professor, pointing to the glowing bricks. Professor Vector looked to Hermione, startled.

"How do you know?" She asked, looking at Hermione curiously. Hermione looked back at her professor, confused. She'd thought that all wizards could do it. Well, Harry couldn't, but he couldn't do a lot of things.

"They're glowing." Hermione replied.

Professor Vector's eyes widened dramatically.

"We'll speak later." She said calmly, making Hermione _almost_ certain that she was a Slytherin, and turned back to the brick wall. Professor Vector tapped the bricks in a certain order with her wand, each one glowing brighter as she tapped it.

The bricks she had touched quivered and the bricks began to move out, creating a small hole that grew wider until they were facing a large archway, that lead onto a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Professor Vector, "to Diagon Alley."

Hermione stared at the alley in amazement as the trio stepped through the archway. She quickly looked back over her shoulder and saw the archway returning to its original state. She looked back to the alley as the wall completed its movement.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop, reflecting on the surfaces. Above them was a sign that read: _Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible_.

"You'll need one later." Professor Vector commented, "But you need your money first. We'll go to Gringotts for that."

Hermione turned her head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to take in everything she could: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping… the list went on.

A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed.

"Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

Hooting came from a dark shop with a sign that read _Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy_. Several boys of about Hermione's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. Hermione wrinkled her own nose distastefully at them. _Honestly_ , could they even _try_ to be civilized?

"Look," One of them said as the trio passed, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand- fastest ever-"

Hermione didn't hear the rest of what he said, deciding that there were more important things to be focusing on.

There were shops selling robes, including one called _Madam Malkins_. Some shops were selling telescopes and silver balances, while others, namely _Flourish and Blotts_ , sold books. There were windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon... Hermione attempted to look at it all as they made their way down the alley.

"Here we are." Professor Vector finally said, "Mr Potter, Ms. Hermione - this is Gringotts."

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -

"That's a goblin." Professor Vector quietly explained at the two startled expressions on Hermione and Harry's faces, "They run Gringotts."

They walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was short; even shorter than Harry by at least a head. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside.

They then were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn._

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

"Gringotts is the safest place in the world." Professor Vector explained, "Other than perhaps Hogwarts. Robbing it is quite impossible. I would advise you against doing so, both the robbing Gringotts and the crime itself."

A pair of goblins - yet again - bowed them through the silver doors that opened to reveal a vast marble hall that was occupied by about a hundred goblins who were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, and examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There was one on the side that seemed to be weighing a large diamond on a gold scale. _Talk about expensive._

There was a countless number of doors leading away from the hall. Goblins showed people in robes - wizards and witches - out of them. Professor Vector, Harry, and Hermione walked into a line for the goblin in the middle of the counter, which was the shortest of them all.

"Good morning." Professor Vector said to the goblin when they got through the line, "I'm here to help Mr. Potter take some money out of his account, as well as help a new student, Ms. Hermione, create an account."

"You have his key, Madam?" The goblin asked, perking up at Harry's name. Hermione almost groaned when he did. Why did everything seem to center around Harry?

"Yes." Professor Vector said, fishing a tiny golden key out of a brown bag that hung from her necklace. She placed it in the goblin's hands.

There was a moment of silence as the goblin inspected it closely, and then -

"That seems to be in order." The goblin announced, before smoothly transitioning to the second topic, "What is the last name of the student who would like a vault set up?"

"I'm an orphan, sir." Hermione said as the goblin's eyes pierced her, swallowing the nervousness that popped up when she stared into his eyes. The goblin's face morphed into one of surprise at 'sir', but it quickly morphed back to one of indifference. Hermione admired the goblin's mask of his emotions: it would have been foolproof if he hadn't given himself away.

"Very well." The goblin said, "Are you muggleborn? If not, we can do a blood test. We don't keep track of muggle's blood here."

"I'm the former." Hermione said stiffly, having read about blood purity from a book just that morning. The goblin nodded.

"Than you must choose a wizarding last name." The goblin said, "If the people who have it are still alive, than they must approve of it with you. If not, than you can have it.."

"Er-" Hermione said, thinking. She didn't want to be seen as someone who was trying to copy a deceased person, such as Merlin, so perhaps just thinking one up that wasn't as famous would do…

"What about Riddle?" Hermione asked, remembering the name from the trophy room. He had been a Prefect. And, besides, he was - or perhaps still was - a halfblood or pureblood, as the book said he wasn't muggleborn (an odd fact).

Hermione was too focused on her own thoughts to see the goblin to a little jolt, before peering closer at her. Finally, he said:

"Very well. Riddle's dead, so follow me. We must get a bit of paperwork done." He turned back to Professor Vector, "I will have someone take you two down to Mr. Potter's vault. You can come back to pick Ms. Hermione after that. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Professor Vector and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall, leaving Hermione alone with the teller.

Roughly two hours later, a girl by the name of Hermione Riddle emerged from Gringotts bank.

* * *

Daily Prophet Headlines for the Week

 **Harry Potter Has A Sibling**

* * *

 _ **From the Mixed-up Highly Delusional Orderly Sane Crazy True False Files of Chaos**_

 _.._

" _os,erehtsawtsrifgnithon,"itavaraplitapdlotsumaesnaginnifgnirudygolobrehssalc,eht elpoepdnuorarehgninetsilniylevitnetta otahwdlouwemocebnwonktastrawgohsaatcaf,_

 _..._

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: Yes, as Hermione thought, it's '**_ _ridiculous_ it would be for an eleven year old to have a girlfriend'. This isn't slash (yet).


	9. Diagon Alley

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Chapter 8 - Diagon Alley

 **Author's note:** Some parts of the chapter are quoted or paraphrased from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_. Thanks to leonix2009 and Alexa SixT for reviewing!

Here's the chapter! Read and review!

"You might as well get your uniform first," said Professor Vector as they stood outside Gringotts, pointing to _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_ , "I have some unfinished business at Gringotts, so I'm going to trust you can handle yourselves for a few minutes."

She said this with a severe look.

"Yes, Professor." Harry and Hermione said at the same time. Professor Vector escorted them to the front door before they split ways.

Entering the shop, Hermione spotted Madam Malkin, who was a squat, witch dressed in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak, "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact. "

They were shown to the back of the shop, where a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Hermione, who had, thankfully, picked up some wizard government books, as well as books about powerful families, and remembered the Malfoys being described in the same way (thank you, photographic memory). This must be Draco, son of Lucius, who was apparently the man who controlled the Minister of Magic.

 _So he's my friend._

Hermione stepped up onto the stool beside the boy, leaving the stool farther away for Harry, and allowed an assistant to slip a long robe over her head. The assistant began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," Draco Malfoy said, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, allowing him to continue.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," Draco said in a bored, drawling voice, "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Hermione was strongly reminded of Dudley. She questioned if it was really worth it, before deciding that it may just be a mask.

 _Maybe._

"Have you got your own broom?" Draco went on.

"No," Hermione said, "But I plan on getting one. I'm going to wait for next year, however. The probability Nimbus is going to bring out a better broom is high."

Thank goodness Harry had read about Quidditch and told her all about it beforehand.

"Do you play Quidditch?" Draco asked, looking interested.

"Not yet, but I may next year, so I can be on the team. It'll be a great honor." Hermione replied curtly.

"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Do you know what house you'll be in yet?"

"Ah, that would be telling." Hermione said with a smirk, Draco peered at her, seeing her in a different light at that statement.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there," He went on, "But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Ah, yes, the Malfoys have been Slytherin for generations, haven't they?" Hermione replied knowingly, directing the conversation in the way she wanted it to go.

"You know of me?" Draco asked, a hint of surprise coming through, "You must be pureblood or halfblood then - what's your name?"

"Hermione Riddle." Hermione replied.

"Haven't heard of that name before." Draco said, his eyes narrowing, "You aren't a _mudblood_ , though, I assume?"

"Pure." Hermione said shortly, recognizing the slang and deciding that being a pureblood would be best for her. Of course, being an orphan and all, she had no idea, but she got to choose her last name her, so why not choose her mother's blood status? (Since she knew Tom Riddle was either a half or pure blood, the chances of her fake mother being half or pureblood was high anyways.)

"Ah." Draco said, obviously (to Hermione at least) storing the information for later, and then, suddenly he nodded to the front window. Professor Vector was standing there, writing something on a piece of paper, "Is that your mother?"

Hermione almost choked on her own spit, but quickly covered it up as a cough. Professor Vector? Her _mother_? Hermione couldn't see the physical similarity: Professor Vectors hair was _black_ , after all. But the were both rather alike in their personalities: Professor Vector _was_ the Professor of Arithmancy. But Hermione couldn't really see Professor Vector as a motherly figure, even though she was probably the woman Hermione had ever gotten closest to (which wasn't saying much).

"No." Hermione said, "She's the Professor of Arithmancy at Hogwarts. Professor Vector, Her name is a rather humorous coincidence."

Draco, having no idea was Vector calculus was, simply nodded.

"Why is she with you?" He asked.

"She's here for him." Hermione said, jerking her head in Harry's direction, not wanting to deal with his question. Draco realized Harry was there for the first time.

"Is she?" said Draco, with a slight sneer, "Why is she with you, then? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. Apparently, he didn't feel much like going into the matter with Draco. Hermione internally sighed: she was actually making progress with Malfoy, and then Harry had to mess it up by acting all short. She did understand him, however; she didn't want to talk about it either. Hermione, on the other hand, had deflected the question more gracefully.

"Oh, sorry," Draco said, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

But before Draco could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dears," and Harry and Hermione stepped down from their respective footstools.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, then." said Draco to Hermione, "Perhaps we'll both be in the same house together."

 _Thank the goodness Harry didn't ruin it all_ , Hermione thought, relieved.

"Perhaps." Hermione replied, and they walked out.

Harry was rather quiet as they walked down the street with Professor Vector.

"What's wrong?"Hermione asked, concerned.

"Why were you being so nice to him?" Harry asked quietly, "I could barely help myself from yelling at him. He was snobbish."

"It was just a disguise." Hermione replied, choosing her words carefully, for Professor Vector was most likely listening in, "He may not be that bad beneath it, Harry. And plus, he's _Draco Malfoy_. You remember what I told you about Luc- er, I mean Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, wracking his memory, and then opened his eyes and nodded.

"Ok." He said, "I get it now. Thanks, Hermione."

They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit more when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote with it.

"And Slytherin is-?" Harry asked, seemingly still thinking about their conversation.

"One of the four school houses." Hermione reminded, "A lot of people says Hufflepuff aren't very smart-"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff" Harry said gloomily.

"Of course you won't be!" Hermione admonished, "You're both brave, smart, and cunning, Harry. If anything, they will have a hard time picking what of the other three houses to put you in!"

Harry brightened considerably at that.

They bought their school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with all sorts of books: ones as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Hermione spotted Professor Vector almost dragging Harry away from _Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue- Tying and Much, Much More)_ by Professor Vindictus Viridian while Hermione was searching for some extra books. Hermione guessed Harry had wanted to learn how to curse Dudley.

Of course, when her time came, Hermione had to be pulled away from the store one her stack had grown to be higher than the top of the bookshelves -

" _Just one more, Professor? Please?"_

" _Ms. Hermione, just_ _ **grab**_ _it and let's_ _ **go.**_ "

" _Wait, this sounds fascinating..."_

" _Ms. Riddle-"_

" _And this one's about Arithmancy, so can I get it? You know, to study ahead for your class."_

" _ **Yes**_ _, Ms. Riddle, but_ _**please**_ _hurry up."_

" _Oooh, look at this one-"_

" _Ms. Riddle!"_

" _Coming. Oh, wow, look! This one's about-"_

Anyways, Professor Vector wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (thank goodness, that was an expensive purchase, even if Harry was now the inheritor of the whole Potter vaults, which were apparently massive. Harry, upon telling Hermione this, shoved a unnecessarily large bag of golden galleon into her hands, saying that she needed some money to get her stuff, and that's what siblings were for anyways), but they got a set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope.

Then, the trio visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls, and bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Professor Vector asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry and Hermione, the two siblings examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and the minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the Apothecary, Hermione checked her list again.

"Just our wands left, then. And I'm going to get you a birthday present." Hermione said.

Harry went red. "You don't have to, you already got me an awesome one-"

"I'll be using your money you gave to me, mind you." Hermione replied, cutting Harry off, "And that's what siblings are for, anyways. How about I get you an owl. They're supposed to carry mail.

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell. And Harry had gotten Hermione Midnight, a black owl that had immediately bonded with Hermione, and was, at the moment, watching the world with her bright blue eyes.

"Just Ollivanders left now." Professor Vector said after the exchange.

A magic wand... this was what Hermione had been really looking forward to. The possibilities of what she could do with a magical focus...

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ A single, brownish wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. _Ollivanders_ was a tiny place, and was empty except for a single, spindly chair. Hermione felt as is she had entered a very strict library. She was silent as she looked at thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of her neck prickled. She looked over to see Harry was just as unsettled as she was, if not even more. His eyes were flicking back and forth, seeming nervous. The very dust and silence in the room seemed to tingle with secret magic, making Hermione curious for more.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Beside Hermione, Harry jumped at the same time Hermione did.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly from Hermione's left.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. Hermione wonder what made _Harry_ so famous that everyone knew who he was in a place _he'd_ hadn't known about since a _day_ ago, "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Hermione took up a bit of defensive stance, on her guard. There was something to this man that creeped her out.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. Hermione stepped a little closer to the pair, ready to levitate the man out of his shop at a moment's notice.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly, "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hermione.

"And you are…"

"Hermione. Hermione Riddle." Hermione replied shortly.

Ollivander's eyes slightly widened, but he quickly attempted to cover it up by turning back to Harry.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now - Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er - well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and around his head. As he measured, he said:

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

As he said this, Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes, leaving the tape measure to measure Harry's nostrils on its own.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and, looking a bit foolish, waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -"

Harry tried, but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no -here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. Hermione had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for, but she was getting impatient. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Hermione's eyes shot to the wand. She had felt small auras on all of the wands, but this aura… well, it seemed to be calling to her.

Harry took the wand and raised it above his head and brought it down.

Nothing happened.

Mr. Ollivander, looking very disappointed, took the wand back from Harry and put it back on the shelf. Hermione almost called out that that was _hers_ but decided to let the wand-maker do his thing. It was Harry's turn, after all.

"Here, try this. Holly, dragon heartstring, ten inches, whippy."

Harry raised the wand above his head yet again, and brought it swishing down through the dusty air. A stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. "

Then it was Hermione's turn. She had gone through nearly as many wands as Harry did, yet Mr. Ollivander had not given her the holly wand she wanted. She frowned, before putting her hands behind her back (while Mr. Ollivander was explaining another wand), and _called_.

The holly, eleven and a half inches, and phoenix feather wand came zooming into Hermione's now outstretched hands and, with a bang, green and silver sparks exploded from the wand. Mr. Ollivander's mouth hung open, Hermione noticed smugly.

"Wait." Hermione said as Mr. Ollivander began reaching for a box, "It's missing something."

Indeed, the wand felt… incomplete. There was something else it seemed to be telling her, but it said it so softly Hermione couldn't hear it.

Mr. Ollivander peered at her curiously before going back in some place in his shop and, not more than a minute later, emerging with a wood in his hand. Hermione took it from him and held it by her wand.

" _Yes_." Hermione said, "This is it."

"Vine." Mr. Ollivander said, "Than I will have to switch the woods. It'll take about two hours, if you can come back then."

He put Hermione's wand back into its box with the vine wood and wrapped it in brown paper, muttering, "Curious... curious.."

"What's curious?" Hermione asked.

Mr. Ollivander fixed Hermione with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms. Riddle. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Mr. Ollivander had turned to Harry during his speech and was looking directly at Harry's lightning bolt scar. Harry swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Ms. Hermione... after all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."

Harry was shivering, and Hermione wasn't sure she liked Mr. Ollivander too much. She did, however, want to know who this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fellow was, and why in the _world_ he had given Harry a scar. Anyways, they paid seven gold Galleons for each wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

It was dark by the time Harry and Hermione made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty, with both of their wands: Holly, dragon heartstring, ten inches, whippy, and Vine, Phoenix feather, eleven and a half inches, and unyielding.


	10. Interlude

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Interlude:

 _ **From the Mixed-up Highly Delusional Orderly Sane Crazy True False Files of Chaos:**_

...

"neht,erehterewxis:ytilaer,emit,rewop,ecaps,luos,dnadnim,gnitaercsgnihttariehtlliw."

…


	11. The Sorting Hat

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Chapter Nine - The Sorting Hat

 **Author's Note: Firstly, thanks to my reviewers ROXN, leonix2009, Fast Frank (guest reviewer), and masseffectpotter.**

 **To reviewer ROXN: no, there isn't something wrong with chapter ten. It is exactly how I wanted it to be (evil laughs).**

 **Secondly, some parts of this chapter are quoted or phraphrased from** _ **Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**_ **.**

 **Thirdly, here's the next chapter! Read and review!**

Hermione and Harry stood by the front doors of Hogwarts with Professor McGonagall. They were waiting for the first-years to arrive (all of the other years had already). Hermione faintly wondered what time it was - and why wizards didn't have clocks or watches. She remembered reading something about how madig and technology didn't mix well-

 _BOOM. BOOM. BOOM._

Professor McGonagall opened the doors at once. A very large man with a brownish beard and brown eyes towered above her, some smaller students peering out from behind him.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall replied.

She pulled the door wide. The students rushed in, all of them a bit damp but smiling and happy, though most seemed a bit nervous. They didn't seem to notice Harry and Hermione, who moved into the crowd. Most of them seemed awestruck at the entrance hall - rightfully so, of course - it was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hermione could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, where the rest of the school was, but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on a chubby boys cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on a redhead's smudged nose. Harry, beside Hermione, nervously tried to flatten his hair. Hermione smugly smiled - she had 'smartened' herself up long before the moment.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked the redhead boy, who was standing next to him.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred - my brother - said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking. I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

* * *

\- Harry's POV -

 _"Some sort of test, I think. Fred - my brother - said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking. I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."_

Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know that much magic yet - well,he had done levitation before, but he was rather bad at that, according to Hermione - what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived.

He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much, not even Hermione, although she seemed like she was the only calm one - she looked at the rest of the first years with a small smile. Harry wished he could be like her - she had nothing to be nervous of, she could do all sorts of magic without her wand, even if she hadn't learned anything with it yet other than a few Transfiguration spells.

 _Maybe I can turn a match into a needle with my wand_ , thought Harry. Hermione had taught him how to do so once she'd figured it out. He suddenly felt a lot more confident than he did before.

"I'm Harry." Harry said, hesitant to give out his last name. Professor Vector had told Hermione and him about his history and why everybody knew him. Harry didn't really like that fame, to be honest.

"Harry _wha-_ " Ron started, but his eyes fixed on Harry's head.

" _You're Harry Potter?_ " Ron whisper-shouted.

The people around him turned, open mouthed. Harry frantically flattened him hair again so it covered his scar.

"Er-" Harry said, looking around at the eavesdroppers.

Ron followed his gaze.

"Mind your own business, people!" He said threateningly, and they turned away. Ron turned back to Harry, "So?"

"Erm-yeah." Harry replied anticlimactically, at least for him.

Ron's mouth hung open.

"So do you actually reme-"

"AAAAHHHH!"

"AAAAAHHHH!"

"AAAAAHHHH!"

Harry jumped at foot in the air.

"What the-?"

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Harry had only seen one at a time before in the hallways, but this many… not until the moment. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying:

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the one called the Fat Friar, smiling around at them, "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice, "The Sorting Ceremony Is about to start."

Professor McGonagall had thankfully - yet at the same time, thankfully - returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind Hermione and, with Ron behind him, they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through the pair of double doors that led into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall seemed so different when it was full - it was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting, chattering and watching the first years arrive.

These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was the table where Hermione and Harry had eaten before. Now, it was full with teachers. Professor McGonagall led the first years up there, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward to the velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens. Harry remembered reading about it with Hermione is _Hogwarts: A History_.

"Its bewitched to look like the sky outside." Harry told Ron, happy he knew something that Ron didn't, "I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat, which was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.

Harry, noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, stared at it too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat began to sing:

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _if you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. The hat bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry,"I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him. Harry then heard Hermione's voice in his head:

 _"Of course you won't be!" Hermione admonished, "You're both brave, smart, and cunning, Harry. If anything, they will have a hard time picking what of the other three houses to put you in!"_

Harry smiled to himself, now reassured he would do just fine.

"I'd leave if it put me in Slytherin, wouldn't you?" Ron whispered in Harry's ear.

"Why?" Harry whispered back, confused.

"Because all dark wizards come from Slytherin," Ron replied, "and all people who come out of Slytherins are dark wizards. You-Know-Who came out of Slytherin. Everyone knows it."

Harry shuddered a bit; he certainly didn't want to become a dark wizard like Voldemort.

"And your housemates will probably murder you in your sleep." Ron added after a beat of hesitation, "You being the Boy-Who-Lived, and all."

Harry's mind was made up. He was _not_ going to Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall then stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said, "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan moved off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see two students that looked a lot like Ron catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin from Ron, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. Seamus Finnegan, a sandy-haired boy, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. It finally shouted:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville ran off still wearing the hat, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to Morag MacDougal.

Draco Malfoy from Madam Malkin's swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed:

"SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. Moon, Nott, Parkinson, then a pair of twin Patil girls, then Sally-Anne Perks and then, at last - "Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

"Wait - he was that kid with Weasley-"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. The next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear, "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, and my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting...

"So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin._

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the hat, "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that, oh, you and your sister as well -"

 _No. Not Slytherin._

"Well, if you're sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Another boy that looked like Ron and had a shiny badge on got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the other Weasleys that seemed to be twins yelled:

"We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban.

And now there were only four people left to be sorted. Harry watched as Professor McGonagall called out:

"Hermione Riddle!"

He didn't notice both Professor Snape's and Professor Dumbledore's eyes widen. He was too busy remembering the hat's words:

 _"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that, oh, you and your sister as well -"_

And it occurred to him that Hermione didn't know about how evil Slytherin was.

It occurred to him that he hadn't thought to tell her.

* * *

-Hermione's POV-

 _Can you just put me with Harry?_

"Whoa there - now that's some loyalty."

 _I am going to burn you alive._

"And how are you going to do that?"

 _Why would I tell you?_

"And there's cunning and ambition."

 _ARE YOU KIDDING ME?_

"No."

…

"You would do great in Slytherin, you know."

Hermione hesitated for a moment -

 _But Harry's my brother. We're supposed to be together._

"The Patil twins aren't and they're twins."

 _Well, Harry and I always look out for each other._

"No."

 _What do you mean, no?_

"I sat on his head a minute ago. I told him you would do great in Slytherin, as would he. He asked for Gryffindor instead."

 _HE WHAT?_

Hermione felt immensely betrayed. She had been willing to give up _greatness_ for Harry, yet, when he had the choice, he had chosen, instead of both of them having greatness, to make her go to _Gryffindor_? Yeah, not happening.

"Alrighty then, SLYTHERIN!"


	12. Classes Begin

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Chapter Ten - Classes Begin

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay!

I am currently working on another Harry Potter fanfiction called _Start the Fire_ that will probably be posted sometime at the end of November or beginning of December. The chapters are going to be _much_ longer than the ones for this story, which is the reason why the wait for the new fanfiction will be so long.

I'm also still working on _Avengers: Generation Two_ (a Marvel and Harry Potter crossover fanfiction), and am thinking about whether I should continue _On the Other Side of the Mirror_. So, as you can see, my fanfiction schedule is full. The next chapter, _The Potions Master and the (Defence Against the) Dark Arts Teacher_ should be up soon, however.

Here's chapter ten:

Hermione sat down next to the group of students that looked to be her age and that included Draco Malfoy. There were eight of them, four girls and four boys. Hermione immediately recognized Draco, of course, and he had two large boys that seemed to be his bodyguards around him.

Beside Draco Malfoy was a brown haired girl with brown eyes who was was sitting quite close to him. Hermione remembered her as Pansy Parkinson from the sorting. Next to one of the goons - Goyle, perhaps, she hadn't been paying much attention in _his_ sorting - was a boy with brown hair and was rather skinny. Hermione remembered him to be Theodore Nott.

Across from the quintuplet were two girls, who Hermione remembered were Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis. Next to the two was Millicent Bulstrode, who was a rather chubby girl. Hermione sat between Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode, and was directly across from Draco Malfoy.

Hermione turned her attention back to the sorting. She had missed a few people's sortings, but none of them came to Slytherin. The Gryffindor had been cheering for some time, so Hermione guessed the two first-years were from that house.

Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw and Ronald Weasley, well, he was a -

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The last person, Blaise Zabini, became a Slytherin and sat down in the empty seat beside Millicent Bulstrode.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

The headmaster had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said,"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered except for the majority of the Slytherins, who looked at Headmaster Dumbledore with distaste.

"Is he a bit mad?" One of Draco's goons asked.

"Mad?" said a older boy with a shiny badge on airily, "Of course he's mad! The problem is that he's convinced the majority of the world that he's a genius. Honestly, nitwit, blubber, oddment, and tweak? How can he be sane after thinking of _that_?"

The boy took a bite of potatoes.

The dishes in front of them were now piled with food. Hermione had never seen so many things to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and peppermint humbugs were some of the many options.

Hermione took a bit of the steak and fries and began to eat. It was all delicious.

"So," said Draco Malfoy, "You _are_ a Slytherin."

Hermione assumed that he was talking to her.

"Yes." She replied with a grin, "And you got your greatest wish to be one."

Draco smirked.

"Nice to see you again, Ms. Riddle."

"It's Heiress Riddle, Heir Malfoy." Hermione replied with a alike grin.

"Who are you and why do you know Draco?" Pansy Parkinson interrupted rudely. Hermione's expression morphed into one of a bit disdain.

"As _Heir Malfoy_ ," Hermione said, remembering her formalities, "said, I am Heiress Riddle. He and I met at _Madam Malkin's_ , actually. And you are?... Oh, that's right. Pansy Parkinson."

Pansy's glared at Hermione with loathing.

"Riddle - I haven't heard _that_ name before - you must be a mudblood! How did you get into _Slytherin_ , then, huh? Using your little to none trickery, I bet!"

"It's interesting that you think so little of the Sorting Hat." Hermione replied shortly, her tone getting cold. This _Pansy Parkinson_ was reminding her of Lindsay all too much. And really, it wouldn't look too good if she broke someone's wrist on the first day, would it?

"It is a _hat._ " Pansy sneered, "I bet it has a smaller intelligence than even _you_."

Hermione was having second thoughts about how bad it would be if she broke Pansy's wrist.

"I mean, you probably can't even do magic-"

?￢ﾀﾜ _By Sssssalazar, if this girl ssssstaysssss in Sssslytherin, I will leave this ssssschool._ " Hermione hissed, " _Tell me, Sssslytherin, is this girl really worthy of your housssse?"_?

The Slytherins around her that had heard what she said acted promptly. Draco dropped his fork, Tracy Davis choked on her pumpkin juice, the older boy with the shiny badge choked on his potatoes _and_ dropped his spoon, both of Malfoy's goons spit out their drinks at the same time, Pansy looked insanely frightened, and Daphne Greengrass and the rest of them simply looked very, _very_ startled.

Hermione realized what language she'd just spoke in.

 _Oops._

What she didn't realize was that her eyes were red.

There was a tremendous _crack_ and the Sorting Hat appeared on Pansy Parkinson's head. Her scream made the rest of the hall notice her, and they all fell quiet.

Hermione Riddle's eyes were still red.

The hat mumbled for a moment, something only Hermione heard, before turning to the rest of the hall -

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat gave Hermione a wink before disappearing with another _crack_.

Pansy looked like she was about to cry, but turned to Hermione.

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Pansy screamed at Hermione, pointing a shaking finger at her, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU MUST HAVE TRICKED THE HAT, YOU FILTHY-"

"Ms. Parkinson, please make your way to the Gryffindor table." Professor Dumbledore said, looking grim, "The hat seemed to have decided a re-sorting was necessary."

"BUT I'M A SLYTHERIN! THIS IS ALL JUST A DIRTY TRICK-"

"Two days of detention Ms. Parkinson, for talking back to the headmaster." Professor Snape cut in smoothly, "Make it a week if you don't go over to your _house_ right now."

Pansy looked horrified, and her face was all red and blotchy from her anger. She glared at Hermione one last time before stomping over to the Gryffindor table and sitting down as far away from the other Gryffindors as possible.

No one noticed Professor Quirrell looking at Hermione Riddle with an odd gleam in his eyes.

* * *

The Slytherins treated Hermione with the utmost respect after _that_ incident. The rumor had spread, at least throughout the Slytherin house, about her being able to speak snake (hermione quickly learned it was called Parseltongue by wizards). Hermione didn't expect her newfound privileges that were brought by this to last forever, however. The Slytherins would most certainly begin to distrust the rumors.

Hermione had been asked by Draco, Theodore, Blaise, Tracy, Daphne, and Millicent to call them by their first names, a signal of friends or (more likely) allies, before the feast ended. She was also given first pick of her bed in the dorm. She chose the one by the window, Daphne chose the one beside her, Tracy chose the one by Daphne, and Millicent got the one next to her. Since Pansy wasn't there and there had been a lot of room for others anyways, the four girls decided to make it into a private place where they could sit , study, and talk. Daphne claimed that if they would write was they wanted on some paper and leave it out, it would happen (Hermione was a bit skeptical, but went along with it anyways).

In the morning, Hermione and the other girls awoke to see a small coffee table, fit for four, on the ground opposite to their beds. Four small dark green chairs sat around it, comfortably fitting the quadruplet. Hermione resolved that this was a puzzle she would figure out, at all costs.

Anyways, they gathered up their books (in Hermione's case, at least), headed to breakfast, and then began their classes.

Slytherins had a free period first, so Hermione used that time to practice more spells for her next class, Defence Against the Dark Arts.

It all turned out to be for nothing, however, because Professor Quirrell's lessons turned out to be some sort of a _joke_. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which was the first thing that sent warning signals to Hermione's head. Everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. He told them, however, that it had been given to him by an African prince as a thank you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie. Hermione didn't quite believe in this story. For one thing, when Blaise asked to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban.

It was about half way into the lesson when Hermione got impatient. They had learned about _nothing_ in this class so far about defence, and that was important.

" _S-s-s-o t-then-" Professor Quirrell stopped his story when he saw Hermione's hand in the air._

" _M-Ms. R-Riddle?"_

" _I was wondering if we are going to learn anything of importance at all this year, or if we are going to just be having lessons like this one." Hermione asked shortly. Professor Quirrell looked at her with gleaming eyes._

" _Ms. R-Riddle, y-you are a-all l-learning ab-bout h-how t-to k-k-kill a v-v-vampire t-t-today." He replied._

" _Than all the rest of your classes will be like this?" Hermione asked for confirmation._

" _Y-yes, s-s-something o-of th-the l-like." Professor Quirrell replied._

 _Hermione stood up, shoving her books into her bag and swinging it over her shoulder. She was halfway to the door when Professor Quirrell spoke._

" _Wh-where d-do y-you th-think y-your g-going?" Professor Quirrell asked, looking more frightened of what he was saying than Hermione was._

" _I'm leavi-" Was as far as Hermione got before Professor Quirrell whipped his wand out and pointed it at her._

" _E-Expelliarmus!" He shouted. Thankfully, his stutter allowed Hermione to dodge out of the way, rolling to the floor. She drew her own wand, scrambling to her feet, but Professor Quirrell was faster._

" _R-Rictumseptra!" Hermione dodged this one too, landing on her feet. Anger started to bubble up; he had tried to embarrass her in front of the whole class._

" _Expelliar-"_

" _Tatella-"_

" _-mus!"_

" _-ranga!"_

 _Professor Quirrell had managed to cast a spell and then dodge Hermione's Expelliarmus gracefully. Hermione barely managed to get out of the way of his Tatellaranga, being sent to the floor yet again._

" _E-E-E-E-E-Expelliarmus!" Professor Quirrell cast. To Hermione, he seemed to draw out his stutter just to spite her. She watched in horror as her precious wand flew into Professor Quirrell's outstretched hand._

" _S-see m-me a-after c-class, Ms. R-R-Riddle." Professor Quirrell stuttered, holding out her wand, "Y-you m-may l-leave now."_

 _Hermione grabbed it and left._

* * *

" _S-so, Ms. R-Riddle, it h-has c-come t-to m-my a-attention y-y-you s-s-seem to b-b-be more c-competent than your p-peers in the art o-of dueling." Professor Quirrell said after class. Hermione was standing before him and his desk, waiting for her punishment._

" _I-if you are n-not s-satisfied with m-my first y-year classes, I will o-offer y-you p-private l-lessons t-that will bring y-you closer t-to beating m-me in a d-duel l-like we h-had today." Professor Quirrell stammered. Hermione looked at him with surprise, but quickly masked it._

" _I would like to take these private lessons." Hermione replied smoothly. For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of some sort of emotion in Professor Quirrell's eyes, but it went away as quickly as it came._

" _C-come on S-Saturday b-before l-lunch, then." Professor Quirrell replied._

After that was Lunch, which was followed by Charms. Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call. He showed them the levitation charm, which they would learn at about Halloween, by floating all of the desks. Hermione was a bit impressed at that: the farthest she'd managed was a desk and a bookshelf (two objects, not around twenty). But, of course, that was without a wand. Professor Flitwick began explaining the basic theory of Charms, which Hermione had already read in her book, so she secretly practiced floating her desk and her partner's, Draco's, desk. Draco had looked at her with a bit of astonishment when he realized that it was her doing, along with what seemed to be a desire to do what she did as well. He spoke to her after class about her teaching him outside of classes, and Hermione had quickly accepted. (Honestly, it was too easy to make _friends_ sometimes.) Well, the weren't exactly friends yet, but it had been about two days, excluding their first meeting at the robe shop, and they were most definitely allies.

After Charms was Herbology, which was three times a week. They went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study the class with Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and found out what they were used for. Hermione already had read a bit about Herbology, but that didn't help much with the physical work of taking care of plants.

The Slytherins shared Herbology with the Gryffindors, and Hermione made a point of ignoring Harry, still angry with him. Harry only tried to talk to her once, when they were leaving, and she promptly walked away.

Finally, they had free period yet _again_. Hermione used it to do her homework and help Draco with his Charms levitation charm. It turned out that he had already learned a bit, so by the end of the session he could levitate three books at a time and Hermione could levitate four desks with her wand (five if the levitation was a little wobbly).

After that, Hermione went back to her dorm and, seeing that there was a bit of empty space beside her bed, wrote a note for a bookshelf. She placed it on the floor. That night, she attempted to stay awake, waiting for whatever was going to happen. The problem was, she fell asleep at around midnight and, by the morning, the bookshelf was there.

Tuesday started off with yet _another_ free period, followed by Herbology again. Hermione ignored Harry's attempts again, thinking, feeling a bit guilty, that _maybe_ she would let him talk in a few days. Then she would decide if he deserved the silent treatment forever. From now until then, however, she would let him suffer.

Next was lunch. Then came Transfiguration, the second half of which was with the Gryffindors (yet again, take the silent treatment, Harry). Hermione had been looking forward to the subject - she hadn't done any wandless magic like Transfiguration yet, and had only started reading about turning a matchstick into a needle before Hogwarts started.

Professor McGonagall was as strict as Hermione first thought her to be. The professor of Transfiguration was strict and clever, and she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she had said, "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. All of the students were very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione had turned her match into a needle, figuring out how to do it completely eight minutes before the bell rang. Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had changed, shocked that Hermione had gotten the transfiguration so quickly, and gave Hermione a rare smile.

Double DADA was after that, so Hermione read ahead in their books during Professor Quirrell's stutterings, wanting to get ready for her private instruction with him and hoping that he stuttered less and taught better when there were less people around.

Wednesday held History of Magic, which was taught by a _ghost_.

Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Professor Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Hermione gave up about halfway through the class, just deciding to order some more books on history.

Then it was a free period, DADA, and double Transfiguration. While the rest of the class struggled with turning a needle into a matchstick, Hermione was given the assignment to read about and learn the wand motions and incantation of the transfiguration spell they would be learning which, when used offensive manner a jet of blue light would shoot from the castor's wand and, upon hitting the target, would erupt and solidify into a flock of birds (or, rarely, black bats). The birds or bats could be controlled by the caster, though they could also fly away.

Astronomy was at midnight. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes, learn the names of different stars, and the movements of the planets. Hermione took pleasure in knowing more than others (because of her muggle raised background, of course, but she would never, _ever_ say that).

They had Charms, Herbology, two free periods, and Transfiguration on Thursday. And then it was what Hermione had really been looking forward to - Friday.

Potions.


	13. Apologies

_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter, not me. All characters and plot that are in her books are hers._

Note: Some of this chapter has been quoted or paraphrased from _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_.

 **Chapter Eleven - Apologies**

 **Author's Note** : Firstly, if you have been reading the a/ns carefully, this chapter title has changed. I decided that this chapter was long enough as it was, so I didn't include Hermione's DADA session with Quirrell.

Next: _Start the Fire_ is posted, and the next update will be coming (hopefully) soon! The current word count is about 10,000/16,000 words. Here's the summary:

There was enough in the potion bottle for two, so both Harry and Hermione go to face Quirrelmort. Hermione gets injured in the fight, and Harry later realizes that two things: Voldemort's after him, and he isn't going to leave his friends unharmed. With a new determination, the Golden Trio bands together to figure out how to fight Voldemort before all is lost… Butterfly effect. Canon divergence at end of first year. Looking for a beta reader.

I'm thinking about whether I should continue _On the Other Side of the Mirror_. If you have an opinion, please tell me!

And, last but not least, I would like to thank Burke-Leah for beta reading this chapter!

Here's chapter eleven:

It was early in the morning - about seven o'clock - when Hermione made her way up to the library, potion books in hand. She had heard that Professor Snape was harsh, but could be more lenient towards the Slytherins, if they worked hard at succeeding (she had then thought to reply; what are we, Hufflepuffs? But decided that the Slytherins wouldn't appreciate that ambition had a lot to do with hard work and Hufflepuffness).

It was the fourth time or so that Hermione read through the book, however, so she quickly got bored of it. After all, after you've memorized something, reading it again can get very, very dull… Anyways, she got another, higher level potions book, and settled down at a table to read.

"Excuse me?"

Hermione looked up from the book to see…

Emma Thames?

 _What._

"You go to _Hogwarts_?" Hermione asked, suprise making her leftover anger at the girl's rejection of magic dissipate for a moment.

"Well, yeah." Emma said, "I was sorted into Gryffindor. I'm in your year."

There was a very clearly implied _duh_.

"So why are you here?" Hermione asked harshly after a moment of silence, some of her anger seeping back through into her voice. If this girl had just come to annoy her and waste her time...

Emma suddenly looked very uncomfortable. She shuffled her feet for a bit, looking down at the ground.

 _Some Gryffindor she is._

" _Well_?" Hermione snapped, "I haven't got all day."

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry!" Emma blurted, looking slightly self-conscious.

Hermione drew a blank.

 _What..._

"Sorry I didn't accept what you were saying." Emma continued, "You know. About being a Jedi. Even if you weren't _exactly_ right. I just didn't want to be the freaky magic girl."

Hermione sensed an unspoken _again_ , and suddenly felt a surge of empathy for the girl. She had been the freak once, back at the orphanage and with the Dursleys, after all. _And_ Emma had apologized, unlike Harry.

Hermione suddenly thought that she should probably _let_ him.

"Uh..." Emma continued, looking upward, "Yeah, that's all I've got."

Hermione looked back at Emma, giving her a rare smile.

"That's ok." She replied, "Apology accepted."

Emma grinned, sitting down on the chair next to Hermione's.

"You know, the Gryffindors told me that you all are evil. The Slytherins, I mean." She said, "But you aren't too bad."

"You know, the Slytherins told me that you all are arrogant, reckless, and stereotypers." Hermione shot back, "But you aren't too bad."

The two girls stared at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

* * *

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. Hermione was one of the last to come in - which was an oddity for her. She wasn't _late_ , but she had been held up talking to Emma about Potions in the library. The two settled down in the only empty table. Hermione quickly noticed that everybody else had separated into two seperate houses, but it was too late to do anything about that - there was no room for her at the Slytherin tables. Luckily, the two girls were still on the Slytherin side of the room, if that counted for anything.

Professor Snape, like Professor Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Professor Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his goons Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had them listening at every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Hermione was on the edge of her seat, along with Emma, for she was desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead to her Head of House.

"Potter!" Professor Snape said suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry glanced at Ronald Weasley for help, but received none. Hermione's hand had shot into the air, along with Emma's.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Professor Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's and Emma's hands.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry said nothing. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were almost shaking with laughter.

 _Come on Harry, I taught you better than this…_ Hermione thought, though she was also wondering why in the world Professor Snape was being so unfair to Harry.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harry looked straight into the professor's pitch-black eyes.

Snape was still ignoring the two girls' quivering hands.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione nearly shouted at Harry. They had gone over this, so he _had_ to remember-

"Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, sir." Harry said, looking prideful.

Professor Snape did not look pleased.

"I suppose a broken clock is right twice a day." He grumbled, before turning his attention to Emma and Hermione.

"Well?" He asked, "Mrs. Riddle, can you give us the answer to the other two questions?"

Both of the girls put their hands down. Emma looked dreadfully disappointed.

"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." Hermione started, rephrasing the textbook's words as her own, "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons, though not all of them. One it won't save you from is basilisk venom, although it is incredibly rare. As Ha-Potter said," Hermione quickly covered her slip-up, not wanting for the professor to think she was on friendly terms with the person he'd just verbally took down a few pegs, "monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. It also goes by the name of aconite." Hermione added.

The class looked dumbstruck.

"What did you do, Riddle, swallow a textbook?" Someone called from the Gryffindor side.

Emma looked horrified.

"Weasley!" Snape snapped at the source, "Ten points from Gryffindor for your mindless accusations. You probably haven't even read the textbook. If you had, you would know that Mrs. Riddle was not, in fact, quoting it."

He turned to the rest of the class.

"Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Hermione, who already had hers out, simple picked up her quill and wrote what she said down. She frowned as it smudged a bit - why did wizards still use _quills_ , for goodness sake!

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Professor Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. Hermione was paired with Emma, because they were the only two at their table. Professor Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco (who was paired with Blaise Zabini), whom he seemed to like, and, oddly, Hermione.

Hermione had remembered the book - the _Book of Potions_ \- she had been reading in the library. She'd brought it with her in case she couldn't remember the little alterations it recommended. She opened it to the Cure for Boils and showed it to Emma, who agreed they should give the version a try.

"But what if we mess up?" Emma asked as they scanned the difficult recipe.

Hermione suddenly had an epiphany, a smile slowly stretching across her face.

"We've got enough space for two cauldrons..." She replied, glancing over at the empty part of their table.

Emma grinned.

So they set to work. Hermione and Emma easily started the basic potion, Hermione showing Emma how her advanced book told them to set out all of the ingredients first and how to chop and prepare them the right way. It reminded Hermione of cooking in many ways, yet didn't spark nostalgia. They then tackled the harder potion, keeping an eye on the simple potion as they did so. Hermione was very grateful they sat at the back of the class, for Professor Snape did not come by. Hermione was partly afraid for what would happen if he saw what they were doing. She added in the dried nettles to the _Book of Potions_ potion. Emma, who had just come back from checking on their other potion, added a dash of flobberworm mucus. Hermione then stirred vigorously, as the book said.

"You pickled the Shrake spines?" Hermione asked Emma while brushing her a piece of her hair that had fallen over her eye out of the way. Emma held up the jar. They had come to a bit of a dilemma to what to do for _pickling_ them, but they eventually landed on the muggle method of pickling things.

Professor Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. A rather chubby boy had somehow managed to melt a cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while the boy, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Hermione made sure nothing splashed into their cauldrons, looking at the boy with a glare.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, speaking Hermione's thoughts aloud and clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand, "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

The boy whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at the boy's partner. Then he rounded on Harry and Ronald Weasley, who had been working next to the pair.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's a point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Hermione had to bit her lip to not say anything. What in the _world_ was Professor Snape's problem with Harry?

After that, Hermione and Emma wrapped their potions up (no, not literally). Hermione waved her wand over the more advanced potion and Emma did the same to the regular one. The two practically looked to be mad scientists; Hermione's hair was bushier than normal, and looked frizzy, much to her discontent, and Emma's hair was in the same state of disarray, her usually straight(ish) blond hair knotted in clumps.

Professor Snape finally came around to their table. He had already given grades to the rest (even Draco's was a few shades off), but when he came to Hermione's and Emma's, he stopped at the first cauldron, which was their attempt of the harder Cure for Boils potion. To Hermione, it looked the exact shade the book described; a rather pretty shade of blue, but she knew she did not have a Potion Master's eye for such things. Their _other_ potion, however, was a few shades of, even spite their best attempts.

"See me after class." He said, before stalking away. Hermione and Emma simultaneously gulped.

"That's what you get for working with a true Gryffindork." Pansy Parkinson whispered to Hermione as the she was leaving the classroom, looking venomous. Hermione glared at the girl, before glancing back at Emma, who looked too nervous to have heard. They waited until everyone had filed out before approaching the Potions Master.

"It has come to my attention that you brewed not one but _two_ potions during this class." Professor Snape began, his voice dangerous, "Now, can you tell me what you did wrong?"

Emma looked to Hermione, who took a deep breath before replying smoothly:

"We didn't ask you for permissor, sir, and could have done something wrong."

Professor Snape watched the two of them, clearly waiting for something else.

Hermione looked to Emma, who had a expression of realization on her face.

"It could have exploded or something if we made a mistake." Emma said, "And we could have hurt other people."

 _Oh._ Hermione thought.

Professor Snape nodded.

"Yes." He said, "And for your foolish oversight, I am taking five points from each of your respective houses for this."

Hermione sucked in a breath. Losing points for Slytherin _already_? Oh no… If the word got out to her housemates, there would be consequences… Beside Hermione, Emma's face was equally shocked at horrified.

"But, sir." Hermione said carefully, "To all due respect, we _didn't_."

There was a dreadful moment of silence, where Professor Snape stared at them with his cold, black eyes.

"And that is why I am giving ten points to Slytherin and Gryffindor for the astonishingly good potion that was created in class today." He replied, looking as if he'd swallowed a lemon when he awarded points to Gryffindor.

Hermione and Emma shared delighted glances.

"For first years, of course." The man added.

The two stood there for another moment.

"Well, then, bottle it up." Professor Snape said, stepping back to reveal a box of potion bottles behind him. Hermione and Emma eagerly did so. As they were placing the last bottles away, Professor Snape called Hermione back.

"Miss Riddle, a word." He said. Emma paused on her way out the door, looking back uncertainty at Hermione.

"You may leave, Thames." Professor Snape snapped, and Emma walked out, glancing back once more.

"Miss Riddle." Professor Snape started, "I was a friend of someone who had Riddle as a last name, once upon a time. Because I am your head of house, I an required to make sure that your living situation is…acceptable. I know that person is dead. Is that person your father? Who do you live with now, may I inquire?"

It wasn't a question.

"I-I live with a foster family, sir." Hermione replied, feeling a bit nervous, "I'm an orphan, sir. I'm afraid I do not know much about my parents, other than my father's name."

"Which was?" Professor Snape pressed.

"Tom." Hermione replied, "Tom Riddle."

Professor Snape's face was a mask, devoid of all emotion. He stared at her, for a moment. Then, it happened.

It was subtle, at first, but, after a few seconds, Hermione winced, rocketing backwards and holding her head, which was throbbing. The world began to spin around her - it felt like something was worming around her mind, trying to barge in and causing the single worst headache Hermione had ever had - _there must be a knife stabbing me from the inside,_ Hermione thought -

But the, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

Hermione gasped from where she was laying. When the world stopped spinning in a haze, she realized she was on the floor, looking up at Professor Snape, who was in turn staring back down at her. A bit of shock showed on his face.

"Miss Riddle," He asked, "Are you alright?"

Hermione stood up, brushing off a porcupine quill that had stuck to her robes.

"Yes, now." She said shakily. There was a moment of awkward silence before:

"You may go, Miss Riddle."

Hermione ran out of the room.

* * *

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned from where she had just burst out of the Potions classroom. Her eyes widened when she saw…

"Harry?"

It was Harry Potter.

"And me, don't forget about me." Hermione glanced behind Harry and saw Emma there. They both looked a bit worried.

"So what did he want to talk about?" Emma continued, oblivious to the fact that Hermione and Harry were in an intense staring match.

"Slytherin stuff." Hermione replied quietly.

"Alright, then, let's go to lu-" And that was when Emma finally realized.

"Erm, I'll just go to the Great Hall by myself, then." She said nervously, "Uh, bye?"

She ran off.

Harry looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back.

"Well?" Hermione said, "Is there something you want to say?"

"Er-um," Harry started, "I'm not really sure why you're mad at me, but I'm sorry anyways?"

Hermione stared at Harry. Harry stared at Hermione.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU'RE NOT SURE!" Hermione asked loudly after a moment.

Harry looked frightened.

"I-um-I don't know?"

Hermione sighed impatiently.

"You asked the hat to be in _Gryffindor after_ it said we could _both_ be great in _Slytherin_!" Hermione hissed back.

Harry looked to the ground sheepishly.

"I-I-um, didn't realize what it said until I was in Gryffindor, already." Harry murmured.

 _Oh._

 _Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh OH -_

"You," Hermione eventually said, "Are a dunderhead."

Harry said nothing.

"Now, let's go to the Great Hall." Hermione continued, "And I better see you be studying Potions over at your red and gold table for dunderheads, mister."

Harry perked up, grabbing his book and saluting Hermione.

"Yes, mam!" He said, and the two ran off, laughing.

* * *

"Look." Hermione said as she sat down at the table Emma, Harry, and she had claimed as their own in the library, throwing it on the table.

Emma snached the newspaper up first, and began quietly reading it aloud.

" **GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

" _Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown._

 _Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

 _"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._ "

I've seen that already." Harry said to the other two, "At Hagrid's."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"The Groundskeeper." Harry replied, "Ron took me to him after Potions."

Hermione pursed her lips at _Ron_. She'd heard a bit about the boy from Harry, and she didn't like what she was hearing about him.

"Anyways, it happened _while we were there_ , Hermione." Harry said, "Well, it could have, at least. And when I was going down to my vault, I saw Hagrid coming up from a vault - he had something in his pocket."

Hermione and Emma sucked in identical breaths.

"And, when I asked him," Harry said, lowering his voice, "He got all clammy about it. Wouldn't say what he had gotten."

"You're saying _Hagrid_ emptied the vault before the robber could?" Emma asked.

Harry nodded emphatically.

"But, then," Hermione whispered back excitedly, "What was _in_ it? And where did it go?"

* * *

It was early Saturday morning, right before Hermione's lesson with Professor Quirrell. She was getting her things ready to go to the library and study with Emma and Harry, who had quickly became her study companions after the incident on Friday.

 _Book of Potions_ , _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_ , _Notable Magical Names of Our Time_ , _Important Modern Magical Discoveries_ , _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry, Magical Items 101,_ and _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ were all stuffed into her bag. The trio had been trying to figure out what had been in Hagrid's pocket - Harry had told them the size - but, so far, they had found almost nothing. Since Emma had read that there were dragons in Gringotts, Hermione had checked of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander from the library, along with books on magical items and great wizards who could have made them.

Hermione was about to step out of the Common Room when she heard a voice from behind her.

"Riddle."

Hermione turned around to see Draco Malfoy standing behind her, the rest of the Slytherin first years flanking him.

"What?" Hermione asked, trying to sound polite instead of annoyed.

"We've noticed you're spending time around Thames and Potter." Draco replied, "You need to stop."

Hermione stared at him, disbelieving.

"Slytherins don't mix with Griffindorks, if you haven't noticed." Blaise Zabini added, "We're not allies, and we are _definitely_ not friends."

Hermione swam for an answer, not knowing what to do - oh, _why_ hadn't she expected this -

 _Aha._

Hermione burst into laughter. The other first years looked at her with surprise and shock. Some of them looked like they thought her mad.

"Bwahaha..." Hermione's laughter eventually trailed off, and she looked back at Draco, "You actually think I'm _friends_ with them?"

Draco did not reply.

"Admit it, Draco, you attempted to do the same thing back at Diagon Alley." Hermione continued, "You failed. I, on the other hand, _succeeded_."

The other first years looked to each other in confusion. Draco's face hardened.

"He won't know." Hermione whispered conspiratorially, "He won't know what hit him until I'm already gone."

* * *

 _Dear Father,_

 _There is a girl in Slytherin whose name is Hermione Riddle. I thought her to be a halfblood, at first, but she claims to be titled Heiress Riddle. Her eyes turn red when she is angry, and she is very cunning, for a first year. She can also speak parseltongue. Once hearing about this, I took it upon myself to become aquaniences with Salazar's heir. A problem has come up, however; I believe she may be part of a bigger plot. She had been spending quite a bit of time with Harry Potter and another Gryffindor whose name is Emma Thames. When we (the other first years and I) confronted Riddle, she simply laughed and told us, in these exact words:_

" _You actually think I'm_ friends _with them? Admit it, Draco, you attempted to do the same thing back at Diagon Alley. You failed. I, on the other hand,_ succeeded. _He won't know. He won't know what hit him until I'm already gone."_

 _I have written to you, unsure of what this plot is and what to do…_

 _Your son._

* * *

Draco Malfoy did not expect the reply to come so soon, but come it did. He was sitting on his bed in his dorm when there was a crack, and the house elf Dobby appeared with the reply. Draco read through the letter, his eyes widening at how un-eloquent his father's words were. The only time his father did that was when he was worried (Draco dared not to think _afraid_ ).

 _My son,_

 _Do not aggravate this Hermione Riddle. You must become allies with her under any circumstances. Do not attempt to overthrow her, for she most certainly will become the ruler of your year._

 _Follow my words, son, or there will be consequences._

* * *

 **From the Mixed-up Highly Delusional Orderly Sane Crazy True False Files of Chaos:**

"Neht, enoyad, yehtdeniojsecrofotetaerccigam. cigamsawehthtneves, tey, atehtemasemit, sawehttsrif."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Bwahahaha...


End file.
